Decima's Fate
by CortanaV
Summary: Rated T, Possibly M further on. An Imperial/Dunmer girl has escaped a horrifying life in Morrowind, but falls into the fate of all of Tamriel after an ill-fated run-in with the law. Read and review like you life depends on it!
1. Chapter 1 and 2

Author's Note: I may end up redoing the POV for the first few chapters, so stay tuned for updates! Read and review, loves!

-Cortana

**Forward:**

A young girl by the name Decima Sentinelle was born into a family of ten children, on the island of Vvardenfell. Due to poor funds, her mother, Vivian Sentinelle, gave her up to the Duke of Ebonheart, Vedam Dren, when she was 10 years old. It seemed as if Vivian had good intentions by sending her daughter to a better home. A roof was over her head, her belly was kept full, and her clothes were decent- at least compared to the commoners outside the castle. But in truth, Vivian just wanted to leave her chaotic life in Vvardenfell and move to Summerset Isle. For seven years, Decima was a servant for the Duke and his wife, Katriah Dren. Katriah treated her poorly, as did the castle staff. Despite the efforts of Katriah and her staff to teach Decima how to behave and walk within the lines, she continued to discover ways to provoke them.

Decima was destined for greater things outside of Morrowind. Perhaps it was merely chance that she was in the right place at the right time; but a sudden turn of events in her life would lead her down a path that not even the wildest of dreamers could ever imagine.

**Chapter One: Welcoming Dinner**

Decima loathed seeing Katriah Dren's face, and Katriah probably felt the same way about Decima. Their rivalry started when Decima was summoned to accompany Katriah during one of her routine walks around the town plaza. Decima didn't have any interest in watching the countess prance around the town plaza in front of the commoners. So instead, Decima wandered off towards the docks where a large fishing boat was unloading the day's catch of slimy blue fish. Desperate for some form of entertainment, Decima grabbed a fish from the pile near the boat and proceeded to walk towards Katriah and her entourage. With the fish hidden under her skirts, Decima walked up next to one of the ladies in waiting. As Katriah was near the docks, Decima dropped the fish in front of Katriah, who was oblivious as to what was about to happen. Immediately Decima began to walk away from the scene to avoid more trouble than what she was about to get in to.

As expected, Katirah unknowingly stepped on the slimy fish and slid into the water. But all Decima heard was a loud shriek, a splash, and the squealing voices coming from Katriah's entourage. Immediately, fingers were pointed towards Decima. Looking back, Decima questioned whether or not it was really the fact that she was bored, if her actions were merely upon impulse, or if there was an inner hatred for the countess from the start. Regardless of her motives, Decima's life in Ebonheart was going to go downhill from that day on.

Now, years later after the incident, Katriah had arranged a lavished dinner party for Emperor Uriel Septim VII, who was visiting Vvardenfell at the time. He was supposed to arrive in Ebonheart upon arriving in Vvardenfell. The next day he would arrive in the city of Vivec. As the cousin of Queen Barenziah, and not wanting to be overshadowed by her, Katriah wanted to make a good impression on the Emperor. Decima knew this all too well.

Usually Decima would do her best to humiliate Katriah. But she was to be in the presence of the Emperor! Uriel Septim himself! And her punishment for messing up during this event would be far worse than anything she had experienced before. Tonight, Decima would be on her best behavior; and it didn't seem like behaving would be that hard. Besides, she'd probably just be assigned to working in the kitchen or simply keeping things tidy around the castle.

On the day the Emperor arrived, Decima kept to her room as much a she could until she was summoned to help prepare for the Emperor and the other guests with him. Tivela, another servant, lead Decima out to the front of the castle; where royal guards and a vast amount of cargo awaited her.

"This, Decima, is the cargo that arrived earlier today. I need it moved into the castle before the Emperor's ship arrives." Tivela said, pointing at the pile of crates, clothing, and other miscellaneous items; most of which didn't really seem necessary for traveling. "Take what you can and follow the others carrying cargo up to the suite reserved for the Emperor. And please, be wary of what you are carrying, and don't break anything!" Annoyed as Decima was, she didn't argue. She had to keep her thoughts, and temper, to herself tonight.

After scanning the collection of chattel, Decima picked up a small wooden crate and proceeded towards the castle. Upon entering the castle, Decima was intercepted by Katriah, who was running around trying to prepare everything for the Emperor's arrival.

"Decima! Head over to the kitchen right away. We have enough people moving the cargo. I don't want you fooling around with our guests' possessions." Katriah said, still short of breath from running around the castle all day.

"What about-" Decima started.

"Oh, that." Katriah began as she looked for someone else transporting cargo. "Rolis! Take this crate!" She said, placing the crate in Rolis's already full arms. "Now, get to the kitchen!" And Decima sprinted away towards the kitchen before Katriah even finished her sentence.

Although it smelled good from afar, the kitchen was stuffy and crowded. Cooks and servers were running around, juggling pots and pans. Then down the corridor was the large dining hall, where servants began setting up plates, goblets and centerpieces. After wandering aimlessly between the kitchen and dining hall one of the head servants, namely Elynea, grabbed her by the arm and into the kitchen, and sat her next to about six other servants.

Elynea bent her old and wrinkled face into a serious frown, cleared her throat and began, "Now, you seven are to help in the dining hall by serving the emperor and his company. Whatever the guests want, they get. And they get is as fast as possible! And please, don't do anything stupid!" She said, eyeing Decima and Caria, another servant who sat next to her. Elynea lead the seven of them into the hallway and proceeded to line them up against the wall.

"Put these robes on. This is what you will wear while tending to our guests." She said, while handing out dark green robes to the servants. "Now wait here until I return." Elynea said then walked off towards the dining hall.

Caria, a pale Breton girl, turned towards Decima with smirk on her face. "One size fits all, eh?" She said. Decima let out a low laugh in return. After everyone got their robes on, Elynea returned to lead them into the dining hall. She situated them into their places around the large room while shouting orders to various people simultaneously for several long minutes.

"He's here! Uriel Septim is here!" A short, round woman shouted upon entering the room.

"Listen up! When the Emperor enters the room, BOW! Consider it an honor that you were in the right place at the right time to be serving in here!" Elynea demanded. Decima took in a deep breath, trying not to let her nervousness show though. Looking around, Decima noticed the extra decorations and banners hanging from the tall ceiling and the scarlet rugs on the stone floor and long table cloth on the table. "Hopefully, this ensemble is pleasing in the emperor's eyes..." She thought. Great, now she was nervous about décor that she isn't even responsible for! She quickly shook the thoughts from her head.

All of the voices that once occupied the room went silent, and everyone scattered to their stations. Uriel Septim was about to enter the room. The loud clanking of steel armor could be heard as the guests and their guards approached.

The doors opened and the Emperor entered the room, dressed in an extravagant velvet robe of scarlet, violet, and gold trimmings. Immediately, Decima kneeled down, as did the rest of the room's occupants. The footsteps of the many guests were approaching as they found their seats. Once the Emperor had been seated, the servants could rise.

The feast had begun. Drinks were poured and toasts were made. But Decima didn't pay attention to what anyone had to say. Instead, she scurried about, trying to fulfill the many requests of the guests. Just as Decima was about to take a break, a rather snobby Altmer guest had requested for more wine. Decima ran over towards the bottles of wine to get the man's selection and headed back.

Running back, Decima suddenly found herself falling over! She had slipped while running back to the table to serve the wine! Her body was hurled towards the table and hit the side of the wooden table. The wine bottle flew out of her hand upon her impact, and crashed somewhere in the distance.

She dazedly stood up to see the disaster she'd caused. Katriah sat with her eyes wide open and her jaw dropped. Decima's eyes left Katriah to find the emperor's robe covered in wine. His face was stuck somewhere between angry and amused. She stared at the scene and then closed her eyes, hoping that it was just a bad dream.

Katriah let out a loud cry and jumped up to make sure those next to her were okay. And by "those next to her", she only cared about the Emperor at that moment. Only during Katriah's cry did Decima recover from getting the wind knocked out of her upon slamming into the table's side.

"YOU... YOU! GET OUT! Look at what you have done! You stupid girl!" Katriah yelled as gasps as faint murmurs could be heard from the guests. Elynea grabbed Decima by her robe and hurried her out of the room.

"I didn't mean to! I swear! I'm so sorry! Please!" Decima pleaded to Elynea. But the older woman's face remained expressionless. Elynea led Decima to her quarters without a word.

**Chapter Two: Escape**

The door slammed behind her, rattling the water glass upon her nightstand. Tears filled Decima's eyes.

Elynea finally spoke from the other side of the door, "How dare you disgrace Ebonheart like you did! After all of that work! Right in front of the Emperor! Your clumsiness has gotten the better of you, if there's even is a 'better' side of you!" Her loud voice boomed from the hallway, followed by the sound the old woman's feet shuffling away in the direction of the great hall.

How could this be happening? All because she slipped! Decima tried so hard to behave! Why couldn't everything just go according to plan? Perhaps it was karma for simply being who she was; and no matter how hard she tried, Decima would mess things up. And this time it was an accident! Although, Decima highly doubted that she had tainted the image of Ebonheart!

After changing out of the green robes and into clean clothes, she climbed up onto her bed to look out of her window. Only the weak hours of twilight allowed her to see the activity of the guards below. Oh how she wished to be down there, outside, away from these cruel people! All of her life, she loathed the gruesome work of a servant. Decima wanted adventure- she wanted to escape.

Voices were now coming from the hallway. Decima walked towards the large wooden door and leaned against it to hear the conversation.

"It's a disgrace! I want her out! That brat did it on purpose! The whole dinner... ruined!" It was Katriah.

"Now, my dear, be reasonable. It was an accident! The poor girl meant no harm." Dren replied. "Even if we sent her off, where would we even send her?"

"Somewhere up north. I know someone in Caldera who might take her. Or maybe further! Perhaps in the West Gash!" She replied. "I'm so sick of that brat! I want her out! OUT! OUT!"

The conversation continued, but Decima had heard enough. Not long after the conversation ended, Decima heard footsteps outside her door followed by the turn of a doorknob. Quickly, she sat up in her bed looking down at the floor. Light from the hall outside filled her room. Katriah stepped inside, still in her wine stained dress, followed by her bodyguard and lady in waiting.

"Decima," her Dunmer accent was stern. "How dare you disgrace me in front of our Emperor?" Decima could feel, yet again, the tears building up in her eyes.

She started to speak, "Forgive me-"

"FORGIVE? Forgive you of all people? Why should I forgive a dumb servant, donated to me by her promiscuous mother of ten ugly children? Well, now it is time for me to play your mother's role and be rid of you! And oh how I can't wait to be rid of you!" Decima couldn't hold back her tears anymore and she felt them start to flow freely from her eyes, almost painfully as she still desperately tried to hold them back. Yet Katriah's glare only lead to more sobbing from Decima.

"Lock the girl in here until I have the time to deal with her properly." Her body guard and lady in waiting left the room, following Katriah. Darkness took over the room once more. She made her way over to the bed and curled up next to the window; her only outlet to the rest of the world. The stars twinkled above her, just like the tears still rolling down her cheeks. This was her only chance. This was the time to escape now or be sent off as a servant to some other noble. Could it be that hard to escape Morrowind? Getting out of Vvardenfell would" be the hardest part if she were to go through with this.

Decima immediately gathered the little things she had into a leather bag. First were her clothes; one outfit for working and traveling, the other was her blue silk dress, only used at banquets she had to help serve in. Later, she packed some of the dried fruits she kept in her room, 200 septims she had gathered over the years, and a dagger that she had nicked from the armory when she was eleven years-old.

She gathered up the sapphire amulet and will her mother gave her before leaving for Summerset Isle without her. The will had entrusted a house to her mother in the Imperial City. Decima was baffled as to why her mother didn't keep the will for herself. Was Summerset Isle that tempting? Was it worth passing up the chance for a free house? Then there was the necklace. As much as she despised her mother for leaving her like she did, Decima knew that the necklace was all she had left of her family; and she felt that the few memories she had of them would need to be kept. Both of these items would have been taken away from Decima if the castle's staff had discovered them. When she first was sent to Ebonheart, Decima hid both the will and necklace under a loose floor stone, hidden under her bed.

Decima picked up the will and began to read:

_"Sundas, Last Seed 4, 3E 389_

_I, Surien Sentinelle, leave my house, and all of my belongings within it, to my grandaughter, Vivian Sentinelle. If Ms. Sentinelle does not want my home and its contents, it is up to her to find a suitable owner. The house is located in the Elven Gardens district of the Imperial City, in the Imperial province of Cyrodiil. The holder of this will must report to the Office of Imperial Commerce, in the Market District, to receive the deed and key to the house. I wish the best of luck to the holder of this will in his or her days ahead."_

Of course, Decima had no idea as to where any of these places were. She picked up the amulet to look it over, just as she did many times before in her time alone. Perhaps she would see her mother again. But if she really did go to Summerset Isle, how would she find her? Decima shook the thoughts from her mind. This was no time to merely dream! She needed to escape from the castle before Kariah convinced her husband to send her off north! Decima carefully wrapped up the necklace and will in an old cloth and placed them in the bag.

The reflection of Decima in her mirror caught her eye. She seldom took a good look at herself, but tonight was an exception as she stared at her tear stained cheeks, tattered black hair, and blue eyes. The blue that dominated her eyes was the kind of blue that appeared when the moonlight hit the water. Those same beautiful almond-shaped eyes were surrounded by dark rings; the aftermath of a full day of working.

In her mind, the only alluring part of her was the fact that she was half Dunmer. She only found the fact that she was part Dunmer alluring. In fact, Decima despised the physical results of her heritage. The only evidence of this was in her slightly pointed ears and her ever so slightly blue-colored skin. It was an often occurrence that she was mistaken for one of the Bosmer of Valenwood. But she didn't mind. Decima didn't feel the need to be defensive about her heritage, for it didn't matter to her. By hiding her ears and face under her long black hair she managed to avoid too much speculation from others.

But now wasn't the time to gaze in a mirror, she thought as she tore her eyes away from the mirror. She planned out her escape while looking out the window, trying to find a way to climb down into the courtyard below. Vines and loose stones on the castle walls would help Decima climb down; but the descent still looked dangerous. Getting past the guards was going to be a big problem; especially with the increased security measures during the Emperor's visit. The safest time to leave was when the guards switched out men between shifts. And if she left late at night, the men would be tired and easy to sneak by. Hopefully, and with much luck, her plan would work.

In the dark hours of night, Decima studied the guards' behavior and shifts. She waited next to her window until only two guards remained; both distracted by the activities on the other side of the courtyard wall. This was the perfect time to begin her descent.

Decima climbed over the window sill, with her bag slung over her shoulder. Hanging out of the window she searched for a good foot hold and grabbed onto a thick vine. Upon stepping off the window sill the vines she clutched groaned under her weight. Cautiously, she reached down towards a lower vine and stepped down onto a window sill below her. One of the vines snapped and Decima lost her balance on the windowsill, sending her falling to the ground below. Desperately trying to slow down her fall, Decima was clawing at whatever she could before landing.

Her landing was less than graceful, not to mention very painful upon landing on a large, prickly, shrub. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder from the fall, she scrambled over behind a tall hedge to avoid the guards' sight. Decima waited until she was sure that the guards had lost interest after doing a quick search of the area, and silently sprinted through the courtyard, down the long walkway to the gate leading out of the castle's grounds. Royal guards stood at attention at the gate. Decima prayed that they weren't at the dinner, so they wouldn't recognize her.

"My lady, where are you headed?" The man asked. What was she supposed to say? Who would have business this late at night? She spoke fast, hoping that the man wouldn't care either way.

"I need to retrieve medicine for a fellow servant, sir. The situation is urgent." She mumbled. He nodded in approval as Decima sped off into the night.

Attracting more attention would be the worst case scenario. The last thing she'd need was more people to report her presence outside of the castle. She dashed into a dark alley and began to devise a route to the city docks. Staying in the shadows and in the alleys would be her only chance in getting through town and to the docks. She jumped from building to building through the town, blending into the shadows against the stone walls of the various homes and taverns, avoiding the guards and finally reaching the entrance to the main plaza.

A guard was standing next to the large statue of the Imperial Dragon in the center of the main plaza, with Decima just out of sight. She quietly slid around the wall towards the shadow being cast by a large building. After a few minutes of waiting for a window of opportunity to move again, the guard walked towards the Six Fishes Corner Club. Decima held her breath as the man walked right past her. She noted that he looked awfully strong and, supposedly, alert; yet he was so ignorant of what lurked right next to him. But as long as his foolishness was to her advantage she was fine with such ignorance. As soon as the guard turned the corner, she quietly dashed towards the docks. Decima had made it to the docks! Now, time to get out of Vvardenfell, then out of Morrowind itself.


	2. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I've been working on these next few chapters for a while. Transition chapters are harder to do, but I pour my heart and soul into all of my writing for the best results! Please read and review! I cherish your (mature and respectful) opinions!_

**Chapter Three: Leaving Morrowind**

Decima, who was overrun with excitement at the time, looked around for a departing ship. But only one seemed to be ready to sail. Trying not to attract attention she casually walked over to the ship. From the looks of it, this ship was for cargo only. But it was worth a try looking to get a ride. In order not to get caught, Decima hid between two close buildings until one of the ship's sailors arrived. It was still dark, but the light of day was soon to come. She approached him while he was still looking away from her.

Attempting to look lady like, she tapped him on the back and put on a sweet little voice. "Excuse me? Sir?" Decima asked. The Imperial sailor lifted one eyebrow at her, but his expression was friendly.

"Yes, ma'am?" He replied. She gulped, choosing her words carefully.

"Where is this ship headed to?"

"River Bridge. You need to get somewhere?" A spark of curiosity was in the man's voice. Decima pondered for a few moments as she mapped out Morrowind in her head. River Bridge was out of Vvardenfell, and far enough away from Ebonheart that it would be difficult for anyone to find her. From what she knew of it, River Bridge was a town located inland on a river that ran into the Inner Sea.

"Well, yes. If it isn't too much trouble, could I come with the ship to River Bridge? I need to get to Cyrodiil." Inside, she was kicking herself. She probably just had blown her cover telling him that! What if he's questioned by the guards?

"Aye, of course! But it'll come at a cost, my lady. Fourty septims." He replied. To her surprise, he was not suspicious at all about her in the end, as she once feared.

"What about twenty-five?" She replied.

"Thirty-Five." He implied.

"Thirty."

"It's a deal." The sailor said.

"When does the ship depart?" Decima replied anxiously.

"In about three hours. We have to leave early to complete our trips in a timely manner." The young sailor with sandy hair led her up onto the boat.

______________________

The voyage to River Bridge lasted three days. It was not the most luxurious trip in the world, but it was bearable. Decima was amazed at the vastness of the sea; for it was a shame that she had been hidden away from the beautiful world that she lived in for so many years. As soon as the ship reached the river, travel was much slower, but she enjoyed viewing the landscape on the riverbank. It was so foreign to her. Her curiosity sparkled upon gazing at the little farms or strange and twisted landscapes dotted along the riverbank. Lurio, the sailor Decima met in Ebonheart, gave her a map of his homeland of Cyrodiil. She studied the map and planned out a route to the Imperial City. When the ship arrived in River Bridge, she had to bid farewell to her new friend.

Decima began to hand the map of Cyrodiil back to Lurio just before she was about to leave the ship, but Lurio wasn't attached to the piece of parchment.

"Keep the map. You need it more than me." He said, pushing the map back towards her. He continued, "How are you planning to get to Cyrodiil?"

"I'll travel along with a caravan to Kragenmoor, then perhaps another through Cyrodiil to get to the Imperial City." She said with a tone of nervousness that rang though her voice as the opportunity for failure still rang though her head. For the vast majority of her trip to River Bridge, Decima was thinking up ways to get out of Morrowind. Walking along the roads was out of the question. She didn't have any idea as to what the roads here were like. And it's not like she had ever been in the wilderness before, so there wasn't a good chance of her being able to fend for herself. In truth, Decima was naïve to how hard it is outside the castle. Ironically, she knew this well, and didn't intend to let that get her into more trouble.

"Aye, you're a smart girl. I know you'll be fine." Lurio assured her. A blushing heat rushed to her cheeks at his words. She'd never have heard those words spoken to her before. Perhaps her new world wasn't filled with as much prestige as there was in the castle?

She left Lurio to look for a caravan to take her to Kragenmoor. River Bridge was nice sized town; small enough to navigate, yet large enough to draw crowds to make everything confusing. Decima looked around the town's center. Many glared or gave her confused looks as she wandered around searching for a caravan westbound. Those she approached weren't hospitable towards the prospect of letting a stranger join them in their travels. After an hour of wandering, she spotted a group of three Imperials heading towards the road going west; towards Kragenmoor. Decima sprinted towards the group.

The woman gave a hostile scowl and asked, "What do you want, girl?"

"Forgive me. But I was curious as to where you are going?" Decima said in a delicate tone. A younger Imperial man cut in and replied, "We are headed to Cheydinhal."

"Well, I need to get to Cyrodiil. May I join you all? I can pay you, and take care of your things. And I'll keep up and be quiet! I promise!" Her voice was desperate. Still, the older woman didn't look convinced despite Decima's pleas.

The woman began to speak, "I don't-"

"You may come with us." An older man cut in. He seemed to be the one in charge, since no one argued. Despite his aging appearance, his stance had a demand for respect. The wrinkles around his eyes showed wisdom and a kind heart. But the way he stood and held himself up was intimidating. The man continued, "But you must abide by your word. No money is necessary, but you must take care of our equipment and horses." The woman frowned at his words as she tightened her hands into fists.

"Agreed." Decima said, looking at the man in his eyes.

"Young lady, what is your name?" The man asked.

"Decima, Sir." She replied. Perhaps she was far enough away from those who may be searching for her to tell her name?

"Welcome, Decima. My name is Ilav. The young man you see here is Martin," he said, pointing to the young brunette man. "And this is Lenka." The woman still scowled at Decima with an annoyed expression, rather than hostile this time. Lenka tied up her fading brown hair into a ponytail and snapped her head away from Decima.

River Bridge was soon fading away behind her, and the wilderness surrounded the four travelers. The trip to Kragenmoor was long; especially since the horses were for equipment only; not riders. Decima loathed her chores, but she didn't complain. The unintended friction between Lenka and Decima would had made the trip awkward for the bewildered half-Dunmer. She felt as if everything Decima said was another thorn in Lenka's side. When they set up camp, Martin would teach her all about Cyrodiil; the laws, the history, and the politics. Martin, at first, was astonished at the fact that she knew nothing about Tamriel's capital or government. But Decima was an eager learner, and took in everything Martin taught her. Decima soon learned that, unlike her, Martin had aspirations for his future.

"Magic." He said. "I plan on joining the Mage's Guild, then moving on to the Arcane University."

"Do you know any magic already?" Decima asked. The term "magic" was rather obscure to her. She had never seen a mage in action, or had seen anyone healed by restoration spells. And yet, it sounded so marvelous to her! It was as if someone had taken the world of magic and hid it from her behind curtains that only allowed her to see the faint silhouettes of a magicka-fueled world.

"Only a few spells." Martin said, showing off the light now hovering over his fingers, illuminating his pale face and brunette hair; his blue eyes gleaming in the golden light. She stared into his eyes, mystified by his abilities. "It's not much; but in time my skills will have improved." He said as he extinguished the light. "Perhaps when we get to Cheydinhal, I'll teach you some useful restoration and illusion spells."

"What and what spells?" Decima jokingly replied. They both laughed as the campfire crackled and danced next to them. "Teach me." She said. "Anything. I lust to know." Martin nodded and motioned for her to raise her hands in front of her as he did.

"Don't focus on visuals with your eyes. Feel light run through your body and out your hands. It's simple." She did as she was told, but only a faint light the size of a firefly showed up then flickered out. Over and over she tried to bring about a luminous light above her fingertips. "The magicka! Feel what lightness of magicka running through you! Try and find something more than light flowing through you. Something deeper." She took in a deep breath and pushed the magical light through her body, and a brilliant ball of light hovered above her hands. Decima's eyes gazed upon her creation before she let it die out.

In time, Martin proved to be a trustworthy person. And now, more than ever, Decima needed someone to rely on. And so, she told him her story about how her mother left her to a cruel life Ebonheart; but she didn't include the details about her embarrassing herself in front of the Emperor in fear that he wouldn't believe her.

"Promise not to tell?" Decima pleaded.

"I Promise."Martin replied with a warm smile. "But why do you need to keep this a secret?" He asked, now with a perplexed look in his eyes.

"Well, the duke didn't just let me go. I ran away. And I fear that someone may have been sent to go looking for me." She said. Martin had a very surprised look on his face. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, not really. But I never would have pictured you as an escapee from Ebonheart." He replied. Decima giggled.

"I still can't believe I managed to do it." She said. A sense of pride and accomplishment swept over her blushing cheeks.

"Well, I wouldn't worry. We are far from Vvardenfell." Martin said, lifting Decima's spirits.

Upon reaching Kragenmoor, a violent storm had already caused a burden upon the travelers. All four of them were glad to be in the cramped room that they rented in Kragenmoor. Decima could hear the mixed sounds of the loud storm and visitors chatting in the inn's tavern. The voices from the tavern were unlike the voices of the patrons at the inn her mother worked at. Everyone seemed much more contained, unlike the drunken mix of Nords and Dunmer back home. Home… Bah!

It became hard to sleep that night, but she was glad to be under a new roof. Decima was anxious to cross the border the next day; especially when she still was totally ignorant as to where she was exactly, despite her efforts in studying the geography of her new home. She finally let sleep take over her mind as the winds outside and the guests downstairs quieted down, and Decima soon drifted away in her dreams of what was to come.

The day they left Kragenmoor the storm had cleared up, but the roads were muddy and it was difficult to travel through. They trudged through the mud relentlessly. But even the bitter cold couldn't extinguish Decima's curiosity. "Ilav? How will we know when we've crossed over into Cyrodiil?" Lenka rolled her eyes at the question.

"Ah, excited are you? Well, we will be crossing over the Valus Mountains in no time, dear. That is when we will have entered Cyrodiil." Ilav explained in an eager tone. Content with his answer, Decima looked over towards Martin, who, to her surprise, was already looking her way with much interest. Immediately, she looked away from him, and up the road, towards Cyrodiil.


	3. Chapters 4 and 5

**Chapter Four: Hostage**

Hiking up the Valus Mountains was steep and cold. Several times the oldest of the horses fell, forcing Martin, Ilav, and Decima to help it get up and walk again. Decima's toes and nose were numb nearly the entire journey over the mountains and her legs felt as if they would fail her at any moment.

After hours of struggling up the trail the clouds grew thin, allowing the travelers to see the landscape down the mountain. At long last, Decima was entering Cyrodiil.

Soon enough, the temperature began to rise and the winds faded away as they began their decent down the other side of the mountain range. Decima felt as if life was flowing through her once more when the mountain's chill left her body. Bare trees and snow were soon exchanged for green grass, lively plants, and trees heavy with fruit. Decima was amazed at where she finally was. Cyrodiil was much more beautiful than she expected. Her eyes were darting from side to side, desperately trying to gather up all of the sights to see.

"Quit gawking and hurry up!" Lenka would say. But her attempts at setting Decima's mind back onto the road and her duties were useless, for the girl was now used to shaking off Lenka's bitter remarks.

The stone walls surrounding Cheydinhal soon became visible. Decima could see the guards in uniform standing at attention near the gate. Excitement began to take over Decima as the group approached the city's gate. She eagerly walked towards the gate, but before she reached it Decima heard Martin shouting her name.

"Decima! Decima! Where are you going?" He yelled. She quickly turned around towards him in a baffled response.

Baffled, Decima replied, "We're going to Cheydinhal. Are we not?"

Martin ran towards her then breathlessly said, "Yes, but we need to put the horses in the stable first. Follow me." Decima followed Martin towards the stables, slightly embarrassed with herself.

Black Water Stables was sheltered by a large willow tree and a hill behind the main building. Lenka was chatting with the keeper of the stable while Ilav and Martin tended to the horses. This left Decima to watch over the equipment. A cool breeze swept across Decima's face as she sat down next to the baggage. It was nice to finally relax, even if she was on a foreign road, worlds away from what she knew. At least the breeze felt familiar. While scanning the road, Decima spotted a hooded figured walking towards the stables. As the figure got closer she realized that it was a tall, male Khajiit. His beady eyes sparkled as they looked out from under his green hood. But instead of going straight for the building, the Khajiit walked towards her, then suddenly turned back towards the stable's building. Decima gazed back down the shaded road, erasing the thoughts of the Khajiit from her head.

Suddenly, Decima felt the sensation of cold metal against her neck.

"Now my dear," Said a low, growling voice. "Stand up before I let the cruel grip of death catch your precious body." Decima obeyed. He led her around the pile of equipment towards Decima's leather bag. "Now, Missy, answer this for me. From what I have observed of you and your companions, this is your bag. Am I correct?" The Khajiit asked in a sinister tone, pointing towards her pack. Decima whimpered in response. "Answer me!" He yelled.

"Yes... Yes it is." Decima replied as tears started to roll down her cheeks. The knife left her neck but the threat was far from gone.

"Leave her alone!" A fearsome voice roared. The voice was from Martin. Immediately, the guards ran over to the scene, swords drawn, ready for action.

"Hold it! Now, now, do you really want to see this young lady perish?" Martin and the guards halted in an instant, now only able to stand and watch. "Just as I thought. Now, open up the bag, my dear. And let me see what kind of goodies you have in there." The man said as he stepped back with the knife pointed towards her. "Is he mad? To rob someone, at knife point... in front the guards?" Decima thought to herself.

Decima dug though the bag and uncovered her amulet. Then she remembered something; her dagger. She searched through the bag until she could feel the handle of her weapon. She had an idea.

Cautiously, Decima leaned over the bag and tucked the dagger under her skirts. Looking up, Decima faced Ilav and Martin and winked. Their mouths gaped open at the scene. As terrified as she was, Decima refused to look the part. She grabbed her mother's amulet and turned to face the Khajiit.

"This is all I have." Decima said as she held up amulet in front of her captor. He yanked the amulet from her hand and examined it. She turned to face the others, now with a worried expression on her face. What if she couldn't carry out her plan? She must carry out her plan, or she'll likely be dead; and ultimatum brought about by a nightmare of a situation.

"Ah, this jewel is beautiful. It shall pay well." He purred, captivated by his greed for the glistening blue amulet. In an instant, Decima turned to face him, swiftly reached for her dagger and thrust the weapon into the back of his hand. The Khajiit howled in pain and dropped the amulet. She withdrew the weapon from his hand and proceeded to step back. He jumped towards her and swung his blade in an effort to stab her, but only cut her cheek as she dodged him. Clutching her wound, Decima jumped towards the man to then dig the dagger into his chest. As he was howling once more over his wound, Decima managed to grab the amulet off the ground. Just before the guards could grab him, the Khajiit caught her by the arm and slammed her onto the ground against the cold hard stone of the road.

Decima's head hit the ground, the amulet flew from her hands. Everything around her began to feel gray and vague. She felt hands clutching her arms and legs. A storm of frantic voices surrounded her. Decima felt around for her mother's amulet in disparity until she felt the familiar chain that held it together. Clutching the amulet, Decima felt everything fade.

Darkness had taken over her world.

**Chapter Five: City of Bittersweet**

No author could ever record my life from this point on like I can.

So now, gentle reader, I tell you my view of this story; not one of an ignorant author, scribbling down my biography based on mere fables.

The day I was slammed to the ground represented something very meaningful to me. It was my life in Morrowind, and it wanted to win this battle. It was going to throw everything it had at me to assure that I wouldn't make it far past the border, and into a new life. And it thought it did win as I went unconscious outside of Cheydinhal. But what it didn't know is that I prevailed in the end. For I was not dead! I was merely in transit from one life, to another.

In the case of the Khajiit's insanity, no one really knows why he went after me in particular. Perhaps he was high off skooma, or just having a bad day… A very bad day. I just know that no matter how random the event seemed, it was the last trial spat out by my life in Ebonheart. I simply figured that I'd never understand why. For I couldn't imagine myself in his place.

Light: it was the first thing I saw upon regaining consciousness. I was awakened in the chapel of Arkay by an old plump woman. She began to jump around the room while I sat up in my bed, mystified by her zealousness.

"Praise Arkay! Praise Mara! Praise Stendarr! Oh, Talos! Bless this child!" She cheered. "Ah, my child! Come with me up to the altar!" Apparently, I didn't have much of a choice. The woman took me by the arm and ran me though two large doors and up the stairs down the aisle towards a large round altar.

I tried to talk some sense into the woman, "Is this necessary? I'm fine! I probably just need rest." But my efforts were useless.

"The girl is alive and well! Oh praise Akatosh! Praise Arkay!" On and on the mad woman went! It was becoming hard to decide whether or not it was the blow to my head or this crazy woman that was causing my dizziness. As I looked around it became apparent that this was going to be something that was going to be hard to live down. It seemed as if everyone in Cheydinal was in the chapel; and I was being dragged though it by an over enthusiastic woman praising her gods.

"Decima lives!" She announced, as loudly as anyone possibly could. Only now, as the woman was jabbering to everyone, did I realize how ridiculous I looked; linens wrapped around my head, rags for clothes, dry blood on my head, and the stinging sensation on my face from the Khajiit's dagger still lingered.

The chapel door opened and the woman stopped in the middle of yelling "Arkay" at the sight of the chapel's new occupants. It was Lenka, Ilav, and Martin.

"She's alive! Look at her!" The woman started up again, yanking me in front of her.

"Decima!" Martin yelled running towards me, with something clutched in his hand. I never would have figured that he'd have missed me enough to almost knock me over while embracing me. But... he did. "You're okay! I thought that... you..." He began as he searched for sugarcoated words to say, almost in tears.

"Died?" I replied, smiling at him. "Ah, Martin. I'm not that frail." A warm smile spread across my face. He then took my hand and placed something cold in the center of my palm. I tried to see what was in my hand, but he kept it covered.

"You forgot something back at the stables." He said, replying to the confused expression on my face by revealing what was in my palm. It was the amulet! It had completely slipped my mind!

"Martin! Oh thank you!" My eyes filled up with tears as he led me out of the chapel, away from the crazy woman next to the altar.

The outside air was cool, but the mood was hectic. People hurried about the streets, running between buildings. There were mothers dragging their small children along to their errands, merchants outside their shops advertising their various wares, and guards eyeing anyone acting suspiciously. Dazed by the city's movement, Lenka suddenly caught me off guard.

"My dear, how are you feeling?" She asked. Why was she no nice to me now? I figured that she'd still be annoyed with me for taking up time with becoming a crazed Khajiit's hostage.

"Considering recent events, I'm fine. Just... dizzy." I replied in a shaky tone.

"Well, we will take you to our home where you will gather your things. Once you are fully recovered you're free to go. That is, if you have anywhere to go." Lenka said, now with her signature scowl. Well then, she just wanted me to leave, and I don't blame her. She continued, "Well, do you have a place to go?"

"I'll try my luck in the Imperial City." I said, concealing the entirety of my plans. Lenka nodded her head in acknowledgement. The four of us headed west over to the side of the river, that went through the center of the city. Everyone I passed by looked at me like I was just resurrected from a tomb, thanks to the blood stains on my face and haggard apparel.

My company could sense my embarrassment and lead me to the house as fast as possible. It was not a significant house; it had a tall pointed roof and stained glass windows, just like the rest of the buildings in Cheydinhal. I ran inside right behind Martin, Ilav, and Lenka towards the yard gate. Once inside, I immediately spotted my bag on a table parallel to the door. Ilav and Lenka proceeded upstairs, Martin went back outside, and I rummaged through my bag. Everything was still there, excluding the dagger and amulet.

Once I was all cleaned up, I started to search for Martin. I needed answers; hopefully, Martin wouldn't sugar coat his answers about what happened after I was knocked out. Ilav directed me to the Mage's Guild hall. I went outside to begin looking for a large building down the road with blue and green banners hanging from the stone walls, just as Ilav instructed.

The guild hall loomed over me as I opened a large iron gate into the front yard and walked up towards the door. I didn't bother to knock, but no one seemed to mind. A young Altmer woman greeted me upon entering the building; apparently, she knew why I was here before I even opened my mouth.

"You must be looking for the boy!" She said. "He's upstairs, in the living quarters."

"Um, thank you..." I replied. The men and women looked up from their books and alchemy sets as I walked towards the stairs. Upon entering the upper floor, I found beds scattered around the room; one with Martin fast asleep at the far end of the room. I lazily walked towards him and sat down by his bed, disturbing his sleep. "Martin…" I whispered in his ear. He let out an annoyed groan in response and turned over to face away from me. His head bobbed about as I shook him out of his sleep.

"What? By the Nine! What?" He mumbled with his eyes sealed shut. My hand rested upon his shoulder as I leaned in closer to him.

"Remember me?" I quietly said to him. "Open your eyes, Martin. The light won't bite." I hovered over him as his blue eyes revealed themselves. His mouth turned up at the corners as he stared up at me. "Martin, I need your help."

"Might this have something to do with helping you avoid the rotten luck that follows you when it comes to shady characters?" His voice gave way to laughter, as did mine.

"You read me like a book." I said. "But right now I'd like to know what happened after my… incident."

"I would much rather not go into the details, but he won't be terrorizing anyone again, thanks to your quick thinking!"

"And not my unexpected nap? Drat!" I joked to lighten the conversation. His face remained grim; such an incident would be hard to add humor into, even if you are the mentally unaffected victim. I could tell that his heart was still heavy with worry and grief.

"You were taken to the chapel by the guards so you could be taken care of there. None of us were allowed to follow your progress in person, except for the priests and doctors." I could see his knuckles turn white as he clenched his fists, his narrowed eyes glaring at the floor. My and rested on his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him.

"Perhaps it was for the better? I'm alive, they did something right!" I explained. Martin's shoulders dropped from their angry hunch.

"It must be so. But you're not here for just the story."

"I need to get to the Imperial City," I put on an innocent face and tried to look like a damsel in distress. "Oh, good sir I don't know the way, and surely the journey is troublesome and dangerous!" I said, with my hand on my forehead and my head facing the ceiling.

"You'd make a horrible lady, Decima. But I'll consider your offer regardless of your acting skills." He said between bursts of laughter.

"Consider?" I must have had such a distressed look upon my face, for Martin had guilt spattered across his face.

"Hmm, did I say 'consider'? Decie, of course I'll go with you!" We both grinned at each other in rejoice.

"A nickname? I could get used to your company." I giggled in response. We then left the guild hall towards our next destination.

It was expected to be a day's trip if we hurried, and I didn't plan to let it span out longer than it could have been. Martin assured me that he'd do whatever possible to make sure everything went quickly, but I was still weary of traveling after going coming from Morrowind. We set out on foot towards the Imperial City, going south. Along the way chatter erupted between us two. Most of the conversation was about what I was to do when I got to the city.

"What will you do for a living? Will you be able to find your way around? What will you do for a home?" His questions lead to no answers, except the last one. I handed him the will so I didn't have to explain everything myself. As the road lead on around Lake Rumare I couldn't help but start complaining about being tired. "Decie! You're the one who wanted to get there with lightning speed!"

I sighed. "I know, I know. Martin... my legs hurt so much right now!" I whined. Surely, this trip wasn't as long as the one from River Bridge. Why was the one to the city so unbearable? He looked over at me and took sympathy. We stopped alongside the road and sat down in the tall green grass, gazing at the scene across the lake. The large snow-white walls of the city glistened in the sun as the colossal tower rose up from the center.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Martin started. I looked up at his entranced expression. "It takes my breath away each time I see it. And to think you'll see it every day."

"And who says you can't?" I asked.

"And when did I say I couldn't?"

"The only question left is, will you?" I asked. He sighed and looked off into the distance. "Well?"

"I cannot say. If I manage to get into the Arcane University, then I certainly will. But like I said, 'If I get in.'" He said, with his underlying thoughts puncturing his voice. "It's nearing sunset. I'd hate to be out here in the dark. Besides, you've now been able to rest and we're not far."

"A large city at night seems more intimidating at night compared to a trail patrolled by guards, Martin." I pointed out.

"True, but you seldom see them. Don't take that for granted, miss." I stuck my tongue out at him in response, holding onto my established sense of security.

As we continued to follow the trail around the lake the air grew to a refreshingly chilly temperature that, instead of making one miserable, energized the weary traveler, making the journey seem much faster and less unbearable. Soon enough, a tiny village at the shore of the lake appeared, right next to the beginning of a colossal bridge. It glistened in the sunset's light, just like the white walls I saw earlier. We crossed the bridge and headed up towards the large entrance into the city. We walked past two huge doors propped open to allow the flow of people in and out of the city walls. A decadent plaza welcomed us, with a beautiful statue of a dragon; similar to the one in Ebonheart.

"I'm afraid we won't get to the office of Imperial commerce in time." Martin said. "It's all the way on the other side of the city, and even if we got there today, it would be closed by now."

"We'll go there tomorrow, if you're willing to deal with me for another day, that is." I suggested. He laughed and nodded in agreement.

"Of course."

We sprinted towards the office in hopes of getting there in time. A sign that stated "Office of Imperial Commerce" hung above a door that was being locked by a weary woman dressed in red. "No! Stop! Ma'am! Wait!" Martin and I breathlessly shouted. She looked up from her key ring, her eyes the size of saucers. My lips running at a mile a minute, I explained to her that I needed the deed to the home… my home… and that it would be a waste to wait until tomorrow. She took pity upon us and led into the cramped building. I set the will atop her messy desk for her to look over. The woman glanced at the paper and began to dig through one of the drawers in a cabinet behind her desk.

I gave Martin a worried glance, but he wasn't paying attention. After several minutes, she turned around with a key and envelope in her hands. "The directions, along with the deed, are in the envelope, dear." She ushered us out so she could lock up, and we ran down the darkened street in glee.

It was a charming house, covered in vines and morning glory flowers. It wasn't unique in the least, but it felt like home. Inside, everything was covered in sheets or folded up in cupboards. A stained glass window let in the moon's light, illuminating the modest furniture I found under the draped sheets.

"With a little dusting this place will be brought back to life!" I cheered! I found a closet filled with rags and buckets for cleaning and went to town with tidying up the place. I didn't know what Martin was doing during this time, for I didn't give him much attention, I was so excited!

"Decie!" He grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around to face him. "Do you realize what time it is? You have the rest of your life to clean this place up." I sighed as I looked around the near spotless living room.

"I... I… guess so…" I turned towards the stairs that led up to the bedroom as he turned towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"My calling; it's not here." An uncomfortable silence followed. "We will see each other again. I promise. Don't lose faith." And he left. I was stunned… I was so stunned, in fact, I didn't ask him why. I didn't go after him. I didn't even reach out for the door when he closed it behind him. My freedom came with an emotional price that may well haunt her forever. His departure was so sudden and out of the blue. It left so many questions that lingered in my mind. But it didn't matter, I told myself. He helped me get here, but he won't be a part of this life. He was simply a medium between lives.

Events that happened despite all probability plagued me for some reason. What were the chances of me slipping in Ebonheart? The Khajiit going after me? Would Martin have stayed longer had we not gotten the will when we did? Would he have explained to me why he was leaving


	4. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Carelessness **

My modest living was made as a barmaid at a fancy inn. I chopped off the majority of my lengthy hair, my clothes were cheap, but seldom plain, and I decorated my little home to its fullest capacity. The city-goers were less judgmental of my unique appearance. Perhaps it was simply because no one had the time to take a good look at anyone in the massive crowds that littered the streets. Even the nobles sneered at my less-than-extravagant clothes, rather than my light lavender skin and tiny pointed ears. I was still paranoid about Katriah letting her guards loose to find me in revenge, so I took upon myself a new name: Azadeh. According to the book I had read in castle Ebonheart's library, it was Dwemer for "One who is free." The name was fitting. As far as my keepers in Morrowind knew, I didn't have a last name. I could still be a Sentinelle, not like I took much pride in it. Speaking of Morrowind, never once did I imagine myself going back there. Even the parades and celebrations dedicated to the Nerevarine weren't tempting enough to go back and visit. I simply listened for the news of my homeland that slowly trickled into Cyrodiil.

In the meantime, I'd walk to the Arcane University in search of Martin. Everyday I'd walk up the stairs, then back and forth between the two gates that lead into the private sector of the compound. Of course, he wasn't there. At least not yet, I hoped. My persistence caught the attention of several students there. They could be found sitting in a circle on the grass, all in green apprentice's robes, huddling over their books and scrolls. Whispers could be heard when I walked by "Look! There she is again," they'd say. "The searching maiden is wearing that necklace again. What's the occasion?" I just smiled and looked towards the gates, searching for my dear friend. Yes, my obsession was to the point that onlookers gave me a nickname.

"Ma'am." A sweet sounding voice said behind me. I turned around to face a tiny Bosmer girl dressed in green robes, and I nodded at her in acknowledgement. "You're here every day. You walk along the plaza entrance looking between the gates to no avail. Why?"

"I'm simply here for someone." The girl raised her eyebrows at me, unsatisfied with my answer. I sighed before continuing. "Tell me, young Bosmer, do you know a man around my age… Oh about twenty-eight, thick brown hair and blue eyes. A blue darker than mine." Her ears perked up as she stared into my eyes for reference, intrigued by my question. A spark of knowledge on the subject flickered in her eyes for the slightest of moments.

"Does the mystery man have a name?"

"Martin." I said.

"Oh." The Bosmer's voice lowered in the near grumble. "Why would you be looking for the likes of him?" These words left me confused. Had he done something wrong? Something huge must have happened with him for a common student of the guild to have such a sour disposition on the subject.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"You don't know?" Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "You should just not go looking for him anymore." And she swiftly walked away.

"What in the gods' name…" I whispered under my breath. "Don't lose faith, Decie." After that encounter I never crossed the walkway to the Arcane University again.

I regret taking my luck for granted. I assumed that I could get away with anything, seeing that I could easily skip out on tasks at work and sneak silver out of the kitchen at the inn I worked in. Little did I know theft was much harder to achieve outside the hotel. Admittedly, I was full of myself. The experience I gained from sneaking around the castle guards in Ebonheart topped off my theft skills from work and was enough to convince me that I could get away with anything.

Money was running a little bit low and my fence wasn't around to sell off my stolen silver. Rain peppered my cloak as I walked down an alley through the arboretum on a solemn Loredas during Rain's Hand. I pondered idea of getting a second job, or doing something honest. But such ideas were soon erased. The sight that lay before me was all too tempting to not take advantage of.

A young, well dressed, Altmer was fussing with his cloak under the large gazebo. I recognized him as one of the patrons at the inn's bar. I didn't even know his name or what famous family he was from, but his social status was flamboyantly obvious. I labeled him as a prestigious child, sticking his nose up at anyone who makes a cent less than him… Not that he actually worked for any of his gold coins, I'm sure. I sat on a soaked bench gazing at the young man. His chocolate colored hair was oiled back, hardly visible under his beautiful fur coat. I hid my hands under my oversized cloak to shelter them from the cold as I fondled the handle of my dagger, identical to the dagger I stole in Ebonheart. I kept it with me wherever I went for the sake of nostalgia and protection. How hard could it be to get that fool into a secluded area then rob the bastard? It's not like losing a coin purse would matter to him.

The man gracefully walked away from the gazebo, and towards the palace graveyard. I quietly followed him, my footsteps muted under the now heavy rain and wind. He weaved between grave stones until he reached a corner between a family mausoleum and the city wall. The area was overgrown with ill-looking trees and moss. I stood still as a statue behind a large shrub, inspecting the man.

He reached for something in his pocket, and turned to face the wall. I leaned around the shrub to get a better look, but it was no use. His head tilted back in pleasure, letting his guard down, and dropped his arm to his side to reveal a skooma pipe in his left hand. Hah! That kid can't appreciate his extravagant life of pissing off barmaids and spending all he pleases, so he sneaks out to go smoke skooma in a cemetery!

The corners of my lips turned up at the pitiful sight while my eyes locked onto him I walked around the shrub, still hidden from any guards. I pulled out my dagger and held it out towards the oblivious Altmer.

"Well, well." I began. He turned around in a gasp as he dropped his skooma pipe, letting it shatter upon hitting the ground. "Since when do rich little boys like you have to stoop so low?"

"You… You know… I know-" He stuttered.

"Yes, you know me." I grinned. "And I also know that whatever family you come from would be oh so disgraced by finding out that their son is a skooma addict."

"But I'm not!" His denial-filled voice rang out.

"Publicly, no, my dear." I continued. "But you can afford to keep that under wraps, for a sum of cash." He gulped as he glanced down at his bulging coin purse.

"I… uhh…" The boy wearily glanced around before he shouted, "GUARDS!" My grin was swept off my face as I instinctively sunk the dagger into his chest in an instant. Blood covered my light green tunic and hands. His body drooped up against the wall when I pushed him away from me. I had to avoid the guards at all costs. I wrapped my large cloak around me and over my tunic and ran from the scene. The Imperial Watch didn't know where the boy's shout had come from because the wind and rain distorted everything.

As I walked away from the grave yard and back to the Arboretum I could hear the clinking of armor from the guards rushing towards the scene. They questioned everyone in the area, and it would soon be my turn. I only glared at the cobblestone surfaced below me as I walked with my arms holding my cloak around me.

This scene was all too familiar. Remember when I said that I couldn't picture myself in that crazed Khajiit's place? How I was sure that I would NEVER be in such a ridiculous position? How could I be so stupid? Do we not learn from history's mistakes? A history book shouldn't be needed to know this nonsense! I was in that cat's place, but it didn't answer "Why?" Why did I stoop so low to do such a thing? Why didn't I just wait for my damn fence to show up again? I had heard rumors that the Dark Brotherhood recruited assassins by looking for heartless murderers. Would they come to my rescue? Would I be forever in their debt, forced to live the life of an assassin?

"Citizen," A guard's voice came from behind me. This was it. I turned around to face him.

"Yes, good sir?" I asked in monotone.

"What are you hiding under your cloak?"

"Nothing, I'm just cold." He inspected me in suspicion.

"Someone was just killed a matter of minutes ago. I've been ordered to search anyone suspicious."

"I understand." I sorrowfully said. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I don't think he could see them because my face was already soaked from the rain.

"Let go of your cloak." He said. I hesitated. I didn't want this. Why? Why did I kill that kid? It wasn't worth it! All for an extra bit of coin?

I let my arms drop to my sides, revealing my green tunic stained with the crimson-red blood of the Altmer I had slain. The rest of the night was a blur. I remember chains, shouting, and being thrown onto a dirt floor, an iron gate shutting me in. I was all alone in a cold prison cell. My fate was to be decided in a matter of weeks and it wasn't looking good. I was to be put to death for a pointless, cold blooded, murder. No one had to tell me that; my bloody fate was so obvious.

The days turned into weeks. The only interaction with any other living being besides the guards was with Valen, a stuck up Dunmer, whom always had something awful to say. "Your own kinsmen think you're a piece of human trash. How sad." He'd say. "What are you anyway? An Imperial-Elf mutt? You look like the corpse of a Bosmer." I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, but only sorrow filled my vocal cords. I had no snappy retort.

Eventually, I was given a cellmate named Bendu. We seldom talked to each other and sat on opposite sides of our small cell. But when he did talk, it was only about why we were here in prison. More like how he didn't know why he was here, and how I counted down my final days. Bendu was tossed in here in a state of being so drunk that he could hardly move. I pitied him for not have been given an explanation to his long sentence here, for it seemed awfully long for mere public intoxication.

And so we waited. We waited for news of our fate or freedom.

Author's Note: For those who are really into Elder Scrolls lore, you may recognize the name Bendu… As in "Bendu Olo," an early ruler of Anvil. (Correct me if I'm wrong)


	5. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Freedom through Blades

Weird things start to happen to your head after sitting in a cell for a while. The spirits of the tortured souls who met their end here tend to linger. Disembodied whispers and taunting voices haunted me during the night. "Forgive me, Martin, I've lost faith," Was my routine prayer before I'd fall asleep each night. I had no faith in the Dark Brotherhood coming to get me out of here, my life being spared, or in keeping my sanity intact.

It was the crisp month of Last Seed when the strangest whisper crept up into my brain. It wasn't the usual "Get out, you're doomed," from the bodiless prisoners. I was half asleep, gazing up at the window, when the voice rang out.

"In darkness a doom sweeps the land." It said. A dark entity filled my terrified heart as the sky outside my window slowly turned red. The smell of death and decay filled my nostrils as screams shattered my already faint heart.

My eyes jolted open, my lungs gasping for air. "It was just a dream, Decie." I whispered to myself. I stood up to look out at the window that stood five feet above me. "The sky is not red, silly girl." I whispered under my breath.

"What is it? Dreaming of a clean execution?" Valen spat out. The Ashborn was watching me sleep, the creep! He chuckled at his own brand of sick humor.

"Watch your damn tongue you twat!" I shouted. "If given the chance, I'm sure anyone in this damn city would take the chance at giving you a painful death! We'd all laugh at your execution, Dreth! That is, if anyone would even think for a moment of you deserving the dignity of death!" I ran towards the iron gate that shut me in and rattled it, wishing in my mind that it would come off its hinges so I could give a piece of my mind to that rotten piece of Dunmer scum!

"Quit it, woman!" Bendu grumbled at me. The gate squeaked at I let go of its bars and sat down on my bedroll, looking back up at the window.

"Do you hear that, my dear?" Valen began. "You've caused such a ruckus that the guards are coming! The end is coming sooner than expected for you! Hehehehe!" His menacing laugh sent shivers down my spine. I didn't want to believe him, and there wasn't much reason to do so, but I listened for the guards entering the dungeon hall that would inevitably scold me.

"Lock that door behind us." A voice said. "My sons, they're dead aren't they?" More murmurs, footsteps, and clanking armor. "My job is to get you to safety." "They're dead, I know it." Surely, this wasn't the routine checkup done by the jailors. "What are these prisoners doing in here?" An authoritative female voice demanded. Startled, Bendu and I looked up towards the gate. Four figures stood outside our humble cell. Three of which were in armor foreign to me, holding katanas and the fourth was adorned in a magnificent robe of fur and velvet with a grand jewel hanging from his frail neck, reflecting the little light that was in the room. He looked so familiar. That jewel! Where was it from?

"I… Uhh… Mix-up with the watch!" A man timidly replied.

"Never mind them. Just get that damn gate open." The female continued. "Stand back you two. We won't hesitate to kill you." I jumped to my feet and walked towards the back wall next to Bendu. The four strangers were walking past us through the cell when the old man in robes stopped to face us.

"I've seen you." The man said, placing a wrinkled hand on my shoulder. "Show me your face." I looked up to meet his misty blue eyes.

"It's only fitting that I say the same, sir." I began. "Who are you?"

"I am Tamriel's emperor, Uriel Septim." My eyes widened in shock at his words. The same man whom I splattered wine all over years ago? The man who led to the tip of the iceberg with my decision to run away from Ebonheart? How could this be? "And you are her citizen. We both serve her, but in strikingly different ways."

"What do you mean, your majesty?" I asked in a tone of disbelief, in awe of the situation.

"By the grace of the Nine, you two are in the same cell that houses an entrance to a secret passage out of this city. My final hours draw near, and what I leave behind is what you are to pick up."

"I… I don't understand, your… your majesty." Bendu said.

"You two. What are your names?"

"I am Bendu, she is Azadeh." He said.

"Bendu, Azadeh," Uriel nodded at both of as he repeated our names. "You are the ones from my dreams. Follow us. Your destiny awaits you outside these four walls!" Never had I been more eager to leave this cell. Bendu and I were more than happy to oblige, even if the old and weary ruler was speaking cryptically.

"Ah-ha!" The woman cheered as she pushed against the large stone wall. I looked at her like she was crazy for fighting the large slab of masonry, but to my amazement it moved under her might, and swung open like a door! In astonishment I gazed down the long tunnel that was hidden behind the wall as the emperor's four guards escorted him down through the dark pathway. Bendu eagerly walked down the tunnel behind the Emperor. My eyes scanned the four walls for the last time. An astonished Valen Dreth stood up in his cell with his jaw hanging open as I waved goodbye to him in triumph.

"GET ME OUT OF HERE YOU IMPERIAL MUTT!" He yelled, shaking the bars of his cell's gate. The rattling faded away as I walked further down the darkened tunnel behind the others.

At the time, I didn't realize the seriousness of the situation I had become entangled in. Little did I know, assassins lay in wait for our little group to walk into an ambush. After navigating the maze of tunnels and crumbling rooms we found ourselves in room that was just as dreary as the others, but was wide open, with only one door on the other side. The Redguard in armor walked towards the door ahead of us, eager to make sure the other side was clear.

"Stop!" The woman yelped. "In the rafters!" She pointed up as men in crimson robes jumped down, swords drawn, ready for the kill. "Protect the emperor!" They all shouted in unison. In fear of my own life, I jumped into the shadows behind a large pillar, covering my eyes to avoid the gruesome scene. My heart ached as I heard the woman scream in agony, and I wondered if we were to share that fate. The clashing swords stopped before I uncovered my eyes. I looked around the room to find the men in crimson lying on the ground in their own blood, and the woman lie there too; her body empty of life.

"Are you alright, Sire?" The Redguard asked.

"Yes. But Captain Renault-"

"She's dead. I'm so sorry. But we need to keep moving." I walked over to the woman named Renault. She still remained motionless, next to the two swords she had carried with her. In order to survive this place, I had to toughen up. I've killed before, this should be no different. I picked up her swords, and handed one to Bendu, who was staring at the body next to me.

"Let's get out of this damn place." He said and motioned me ahead. Further on through the dark hallways, more assassins guarded our way, but they weren't smart enough to hide in the rafters like the first attackers. I stayed near the emperor, which was probably the most dangerous spot at the moment, to prove my integrity to the suspicious bodyguards that led the way through the ancient tunnels. We ended up in a large, empty, room. The two gates in the room led out of the place left the guards perplexed

"This one." One of them said, pointing to the gate on the left. I walked forward to try and open it, but it wouldn't budge. I inspected it, to see if there was a simple lock we could overcome, but we didn't seem to have time for lock picking. A long steel bar kept the door shut, with no hope of opening it from my side.

"It's barred from the other side." I turned around to face the other four. "We don't' have time to fiddle with it. What about the other door?"

"It's worth a try. I haven't a clue as to where it goes, but we haven't got the time to wonder." The Imperial guard, whom I had earlier found out, was named Glenroy, said. All of us rushed towards the other gate, which hung wide open all this time. Only a measly dead end awaited us. "Damnit! It's just a dead end!"

The swift sound of a footstep rushed behind me, I turned around to see more men in scarlet red behind us, just outside the room that lead to a dead end. I drew my sword and screamed, "Behind us!" Everyone turned around and charged towards the attackers, I stood aside to keep an eye on Uriel, who was left behind at the end of the room, away from the attackers.

"Get back!" Bendu shouted at me in the chaos. I walked backwards to get around my companions and next to Uriel. There was no telling what these men in crimson had up their sleeves. Someone had to stay near the old man. Uriel and I stepped back towards the back of the room in an attempt to stay away from the bloody battle in front of us.

"I can go no further." Uriel said in a low, melancholy, tone.

"Your majesty-"

"Take this," He unfastened the chain that held the large jewel and handed it to me. "You must stand against the Prince of Destruction."

"Sire! I won't let you die here!" I cried, the gem hidden under my fist.

"Hide that amulet, Decima."

"How do you know my-" I gasped.

"Bring it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son." He hissed to me in haste. "Find him, Decima. Find my heir, and shut close the jaws of Oblivion." I gaped in amazement at the man. This man knew that he was at the end of the road, and nothing would stop what he would foresee.

Just then, the wall behind the arched interior slid open, another crazed man in red flew out from the darkness that dominated whatever was on the other side of the wall. "NO!" I screamed as I flung myself forward to intercept the man. But it was too late! The assassin's long blade had already penetrated Uriel's back, sucking out the life in the old man. I landed a few feet away from the murderer, who now had turned his attention to me.

In a fiery rage I lunged towards the man, with Renault's katana drawn. He held his arm up to block me, but it was no use to him. My blade sliced his arm, forcing him to bounce back towards the stone wall. I had the bastard helpless and cornered, squeezing his bleeding limb. I wanted this man to suffer. I wanted him to suffer beyond what everyone else in the Empire would soon have to suffer. Fire danced in my veins, itching to be released at my fingertips. I let the magicka-fueled rage escape my hands and fly towards the assassin. "No! Please!" He screamed as the fireballs rushed towards him, igniting his hair and clothes. He howled in agony, trying to get his fiery attire off him. The Redguard and Bendu ran to us, taken aback by the scene.

"Kill the bastard!" The Redguard yelled. I took the bloody katana and shoved it into the assassin's body. The man stared down at his chest, sucking in his last breath.

"Paradise awaits me." He whispered, shutting his eyes, rushing into an eternal sleep.

"We… We've failed. I've failed." The guard whispered. I wanted to say something, anything that would comfort him. But I couldn't imagine anything that would even put me at ease. This man was sworn to the emperor; sworn to protect his life. And because of me, he failed. I looked over towards Bendu who was looking over Glenroy's lifeless body. It was just us three left. The assassins got what they came for, they shouldn't return. "Us Blades were sworn to save the emperor, and now he, and all of his sons, are dead!" The poor man knelt down next to Uriel's body, his face covered in a mask of grief. "The amulet of kings! Where is the amulet?" He shot the question towards me.

"I have it, friend." So the jewel has a name?

"What?! How did you get it from him?"

"He gave it to me, in fear of…" My voice trailed off. I'm sure the Blade (whatever "Blade" meant) got the idea.

"Strange…" He continued. "Uriel saw something in you, Azadeh. He trusted you… They say it's the dragon's blood that runs through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men."

"I'd believe it." I grimly replied, looking down at Uriel body once more. "He said to give it to a man named Jauffre."

"Jauffre? Why?"

"He said there's another heir. He said there's hope!" I said, grasping onto any prospect of victory in my words.

"Nothing I've ever heard about. But Jauffre would know." He pondered the idea of another heir, and I'm sure he found the idea of another unprotected heir an atrocity. "He lives quietly as a monk in Weynon Priory, just outside of the city of Chorrol."

"How do we get there?" Bendu's haggard voice chimed in. Apparently, he's been standing here next to us for a while.

"First, you need to get out of here. Through that secret door must be the way out of here, past the locked gate. With luck, it should take you to the sewers, then out of the city." The man handed me a key from out of his pouch, hanging off his belt. "This is the key to the sewers."

"The sewers?" I asked, not so keen on the idea of tromping through waste.

"From what I've seen of you two, rats and goblins won't be much of a problem."

"And then what?" I had never left the Imperial City once I had reached it, nor did I take the time to continue with learning about Cyrodiil after Martin had taught me.

"Follow the Black Road to Weynon Priory. You must, I repeat, you MUST get that amulet to Jauffre. Take no chances, but proceed to the priory immediately. Understood?"

I glanced over at Bendu, who nodded in agreement. "Understood." We said in unison.

"Good. The emperor's trust was well-placed."

"What about you? Where will you go?" Bendu asked.

"I'll stay here and guard the emperor's body until help arrives."

"Should we send for help?" I asked.

"No. You need to get going. Time is of the essence. Now go!"

"Wait." I said while I grasped Renault's katana. "Take this. I'm sure she meant much to you."

"I assure you, it will be given a place of honor in the Hall of the Blades." The man smiled warmly at us as he took the sword. He ushered us through the secret door and towards the sewers. I took one last glance at Uriel, vowing to find his son, and to bring him to the throne. "May Talos guide you!" The Redguard shouted as we ventured further towards our destiny.


	6. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** For those who remember how the story in the game went, this chapter will throw you for a loop. It's only confusing if you're expecting this story to completely correspond with the game's timeline.

Read and Review, loves!

**Chapter Eight: Spoiled Hope**

Upon bursting free of the tunnel that lead out of the Imperial sewers, I was blinded by the brilliant sunlight that reflected off the lake that was set in front of us. I cheered into the air, my hands waving over my head as I ran towards the water. It was so liberating to let the cool water rush back and forth over my feet.

"You do realize that we're now under the orders of some royal order, right?" Bendu said, standing behind me. I looked over to him to answer, but didn't say anything. Never before had I gotten a good look at him. Little did I know, Bendu was a dark skinned Redguard. In the prison, everyone looked like a Redguard, because of the lack of light there. The only way to differentiate between races was with accents, or simply by having people telling you what they were themselves. But he didn't sound like a typical Redguard; more like a mix between a Nord and Breton.

After washing the blood of the many assassins we killed in the tunnels off of our skin and clothes, Bendu and I traveled back into the city to gather supplies. Bendu and I truly looked like two people who just escaped from jail, but no one took notice of us. The Emperor's sons had just been killed! Everyone was speculating Uriel's fate. Little did they know, it was too late for all of the royal family… All except for one, of course. I led Bendu to my little home, which was supposed to be taken care of by a friend, so we could gather clothing that didn't make us look like jailbirds, my money for traveling, and proper material to hold the amulet in. In order to get into the place we had to lock pick the door, which I had no experience in. Luckily, Bendu could unlock anything with any available material. Maybe that was why he was in jail in the first place.

Before we left, I wrote a note to the friend who was taking care of the place, explaining to her that my home hadn't been robbed. With luck, no one would take advantage of an unlocked home. Yet again, this was the posh Elven Gardens district, where safety is probably the number one reason for people to move there. "We should go." I told Bendu. "We'll buy you clothes, and we'll get a new weapon for me. Then we're out of this place."

The door was about to close behind me when another case of déjà-vu set in. Just like Martin, I was to leave this place with the likelihood of never returning. "Don't lose faith." I whispered into the home then finally shut the door behind me. It didn't ask why, go after me, or reach out in my direction in confusion. The question is, should I look back? Did Martin look back in regret?This wasn't the time to speculate emotions, I told myself.

We continued with our little chores before leaving the city, and proceeded to leave the city isle, across the bridge towards Chorrol. I recognized the little village at the end of the bridge. It had been so long since I had seen it, and so much had changed. The fences were falling apart under the weight of the vegetation that had grown over everything and the road was worn and littered with trash along the sides. But the place still looked inhabited despite its dire situation. The road was empty on the way to the priory. Bendu had told me that it was usually filled with travelers. We assumed that it was unusually quiet due to recent events. Even bandits were clear of the road that day. It was such bittersweet luck. Our only opposition on the road was the rain; a sign of the sky mourning Tamriel's loss. Bendu and I seldom spoke. I think we were still in shock of what just had happened. It was as if I was supposed to wake up in a cell after this dream. Although, this was far from a dream; more like a nightmare, and I was to take center stage in this catastrophe.

In the late afternoon we reached the humble priory. Sheep lay hidden from the rainfall in their little barn, looking out at the rain, a small chapel housed candles under the door's awning, and a large house sat in between the barn and chapel. Smoke was flying out of the chimney as tiny flames danced above their candlesticks that sat in the window sills. Humanly silhouettes flew across the windows, indicating our timely arrival. I walked up towards the steps, desperate to escape the mud that kept trapping my feet along the road. Standing on the stone steps that led up to the large home I grasped the door knocker and slammed it back onto the wood. We stood there for several impatient moments, arms folded in the chilly rain, only to be greeted by silence. I took my fist to the door, hoping that I'd catch someone's attention, for there were people in there after all. At long last, the large wooden door creaked open with a balding old man dressed in dark robes waiting on the other side.

"Yes?" He asked in a bored voice. "May I help you?"

"Jauffre. I need to see Jauffre." I said frantically, leaning against the doorframe, for I had no idea how tired I actually was until I stopped walking. The man raised an eyebrow at us, both weighed down by our weapons, backpacks, and sopping wet clothes.

"Yes, he's upstairs. But you really should dry…" The man started, but we rushed past him, darting up the stairs. My eyes scanned the landing to find another old man, dressed in ratty monk robes, leaning over a colossal book that lay in front of him on a desk. We walked over to his desk, our loud footsteps and heaving breathing didn't distract the man from his from his studies.

"Jauffre. We must speak." I panted.

Without even looking up from his book he began, "Yes. I'm Brother Jauffre. What is it, my lady?" My eyes latched onto the man as I could hear Bendu's large boots growing distant, leaving me to explain why the amulet of kings was in my possession and that Uriel had died right in front of my eyes.

"I have something for you, Jauffre. Something of great interest." He looked up at me with interest as I sat my backpack down, searching for the large ball of cloth that concealed the amulet. I sat the bundle down on the desk, after making a quick search for anyone with their eyes set on us. Lowering my voice I explained, "Emperor Uriel sent me here. He sent me here with this…" I pushed the concealed amulet towards him. Jauffre unwrapped the cloth with great caution. "I don't know what it does, or why it matters. But he made a strong point of not losing it."

"By the Nine!" He gasped. "He was right to make that point!" His hands trembled with the jewel clutched inside them. "Follow me. We'll discuss this elsewhere." I was led to a large bookshelf, with two large cupboard doors on the far end. The man's hands were quick to unlock them, swinging the doors open before he walked in. "Come in, quickly!" I peeked in through the doors to find a hidden room. It was dimly lit without any windows and was sparsely decorated. I shut the door behind me, and sat down by a round table, next to Jauffre.

He cleared his throat, gazing at the amulet. "How did you get this? You best explain yourself!" A spark of anger was about to ignite in his tone, so I spoke fast, stumbling over my words as I explained to him how the assassins followed us, nearly killing us all, leaving the Redguard as the only blade left in the group.

"Baurus. He must have taken the emperor's death the hardest. His entire life involves the Blades. I don't think he knows a life outside of such a world." I remained silent. "Your story is unlikely and circumstances are suspicious. But as far as I know, Baurus is still alive to confirm your story, and you willingly gave up the amulet. And for that you have my trust."

"What is this amulet for, exactly?"

"All I know is that the amulet is a holy relic of great power. St. Alessia received it from the gods themselves. When a new emperor is crowned, he uses the amulet to light the Dragonfires in the Imperial City. I haven't the slightest idea as to what it signifies. Only those to be crowned understand its significance. One thing is for sure, the fires are now dark for the first time in centuries." His words left me bewildered. All of this talk of ceremonies and ancient customs flew over my head. All I could gather was that no Dragonfires were a bad sign.

"He mentioned another heir."

"Yes. I am one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago, when I was the captain of the emperor's bodyguards, the Blades, I was summoned to his chambers. In a basket a small child was fast asleep, bundled up in blankets." Uriel had a mistress? It was odd to imagine the man in such a dire situation like that, having to hide his son away from the public, his family, and his wife. "I was told to deliver him somewhere safe. I didn't find out anything else, not even about the fate of the mother."

"We must find him, Jauffre!" My hands landed on the table to accompany my panicked tone. "Where is he?"

"Travel to Kvatch. Find a young priest by the name of Brother Martin." Martin; such a coincidental name. "With the divine grace of the gods, you will find him. Bring him here with caution. I haven't a doubt in my mind that the assassins are looking for him, if they know of his existence." Perhaps I wouldn't get to see MY Martin once more, but this was a Martin, none the less.

"I'll leave at once." I left the hidden room, Jauffre in tow. Headed downstairs, I looked for Bendu. He was lazily snoring away on a cushioned chair next to the fireplace. I'm sure he didn't want to be in this situation just as much as myself. My heart felt heavy towards him in pity. Yes, he got out of prison, but now he has the unpleasant ultimatum of either helping me, or possibly letting the empire go to Hell.

"Wake up." I whispered into his ear. "We must leave." He let out an annoyed groan and turned his head away from me. After shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up, Bendu wearily stood up.

"Where to?" He asked while rubbing his eyes.

"Kvatch. I'll explain the rest on the way there, but we must go now."

"I'm NOT going there on foot. No way by the Nine am I… Wait." He looked towards the old man in dark robes. "Maborel! You said something about a horse?"

"Yes." Maborel said with a sigh. "She's in the stables, go and take her with you. I never travel anymore." We dashed out of the house towards the stables. Marobel's horse was large compared to its companions in the stable, and was undeniably friendly towards us. Unfortunately, we had to get another horse in the fear or exhausting Marobel's horse. Once we bought another horse from Chorrol's city stables we were off into the wilderness towards Kvatch.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" I asked Bendu after we were about six hours into the trip.

"Why do you question me? Of course this is the right way!" He retorted. "Not even the Imperial part of you can hide the Dunmer part of you, can it?"

"What the hell do you mean?" I shot back.

"Have you any idea as to how skeptic and paranoid your people are?"

"They're not my people, mind you. I left Morrowind for a damn good reason." I didn't like being tied to a race that I despised.

"Whatever you say, Azadeh." Bendu smirked at my frustration with him. After we cleared the mountains that sheltered Chorrol we had to follow a steep trail downwards. The mud wasn't much help, forcing us to walk our horses down with care. I despised the slow progress; time was against us; holding an unknown result of our efforts in Kvatch. The unknown and uncertain weren't realms I liked to tread, this was no different.

We finally reached the base of the mountains, with County Kvatch stretched out before us, with the city perched on a large hill on our horizon. Adrenaline rushed through my body as I ushered my horse into a gallop, straight for Kvatch. "Come on, slow poke!" I shouted at Bendu. We raced across the short distance between us and Kvatch in joy of reaching our destination. Our horses maneuvered around the hill to reach the path that led up the hill and into the city.

"Leave the horses here." Bendu instructed as we reached the stables just outside the gates. Upon entering the city I couldn't help but think to myself, "Another city. Another load of trouble." Certainly, it wasn't as large as Cheydinhal or the Imperial City, but it was just as busy with bustling people filling the streets. "The chapel. Look! Follow the spire." He said, pointing to the chapel spire in the distance. We cut through streets and alleys through the city, using the spire as our north star to navigate.

I could hear the chapel's bell ring out, signaling the hour. My feet went into a trance, following the sound, taking me to the chapel as if they had traveled there a thousand times before. "Please be here, Martin." I whispered while walking up the chapel steps. "I won't lose faith."

We burst through the chapel doors, looking for a man who we would never be able to recognize. We only had the name "Brother Martin" to help us find the heir.

"Friends! May Akatosh bless you!" A man's voice cheered. I pivoted around to face the greeter. He was a tall Altmer dressed in felt clothes.

"Yes, you too," I mumbled. The last time I was in a chapel of the Nine, I was being dragged around by a mad woman, remember? So I naturally didn't know chapel etiquette. "I'm looking for someone."

"Ah! Well there are many someones to find here!" He giggled at me.

"His name is Martin. Brother Martin." I replied, not at all amused by his little jokes.

"Oooh. Okay. I know where you can find him!" He squealed in delight. I wonder if spending time in a chapel for an extended amount of time made people act overzealous in everything they do. "In the back gardens of the chapel! I think he's looking for herbs or something. Brother Martin isn't the type to have a green thumb, so I do not believe that he is planting anything." I thanked him and headed towards the back of the chapel where a door to the garden was left open. The humble little garden I stepped into was unlike the gardens in the Imperial City I had become accustomed to. Only a short fence separated this little haven from

A brunette man dressed in a tattered blue robe sat on the stone bench in the center of the garden, his back facing the chapel. "Stay here." I whispered to Bendu. He wasn't much for talking anyways, I learned after he ditched me in the Weynon house. I slowly proceeded towards him, walking around the bench to have him face me. It was now instinct to hide my ears under my hair before speaking to someone, so I let my dark hair cover my ears and light lavender face just before the man could get a good look at me.

"You need something?" He grumbled, not even looking up to face me.

"Brother Martin." My stoic voice rolled out his name. He let out a sigh, finally looking up to meet my eyes. "Yes. I need something. I need you."

"A lot of people need me. You're going to need to be more specific."

"If I told you, you'd think I'm crazy. Come with me and I can have someone explain this to you better than I can." He raised his eyebrow at me, already thinking I'm crazy.

"No, you can tell me now." I sighed. This was going to be worse than I thought. I sat down next to him on the bench.

"A matter of days ago, our emperor was slain." He nodded in response, intent on listening. "He died right in front of my eyes."

"What? How? Why where you…"

"Let me finish," I interrupted. "Before he died Uriel told me to find his final heir. Let's just say you're a key part in finding the final heir."

"I hold no knowledge to find such a man. You must have the wrong man!" Martin looked at me in disbelief.

"No. I don't. I was given specific instructions to find you, Martin. I'm not talking about what you know. I'm talking about what runs through your blood."

"What are you saying, woman?!" He shouted. "You're daft! What in Oblivion are you suggesting?"

"What I'm suggesting is that you are the heir!"

"You ARE daft!" Martin jumped up from his seat glaring down at me. I gazed into his eyes… His father's eyes. The brunette locks of hair that hung from his head were so familiar; his stance was strong and confident. It reminded me so much of… My Martin. He was my Martin! I was sure of it! "I don't know about you, but I don't like being annoyed by insane strangers, thank you very much." Martin continued.

"I'm no stranger!" I shouted. "Please, Martin. Let me explain!" I placed a hand on his arm as he was walking away. He patiently stopped to face me.

"Who are you?" His eyes locked to mine in fascination.

"Ten years ago you helped me escape from Morrowind. Ten years ago you watched as I ran around my little home, cleaning and decorating it until the early hours of morning." I smiled at recalling the memory. It was such happy day in my life until… "Ten years ago you left me in the Imperial City." Martin's mouth hung wide open in shock. Certainly, this was him. The man knew exactly what I was talking about.

"This cannot be…" His voice was in a shocked whisper, pondering our discovery.

"It is, Martin! Please, you must come with me." I begged him, clutching his arm even tighter.

"I'd love to believe you, Decie. But I am just a priest of Akatosh; far from a crown-wielding emperor." Martin explained. "I can't possibly be Uriel's son, nothing about me makes me worthy of such a title."

In desperation I pleaded, "Be unworthy as you want, but we still need your help!" At the very moment Martin opened his mouth to reply, a horrifying wail rang out. The sound of earth being ripped apart followed. We looked around frantically for the source of the sound. The screams of confused citizens could be heard as they ran for shelter from whatever terror had caused the noise.

"What on earth?" Martin asked himself, watching the people run in terror.

"RUN! RUN AND HIDE!" One of the frightened citizens screamed as he ran away from the chaos' epicenter. I feared that whatever was causing this was on its way for Martin.

"Get inside the chapel! Go! Go!" I instructed, pushing Martin towards the door with Bendu running in after him. A roaring thunder sounded off as I slammed the door behind us.

"What in the name of Talos was that?" Bendu said. His usual tone of courage was now one of fear. I shrugged my shoulders at him, wanting to know the same thing. My curiosity got the best of me when I walked over to the chapel entrance door to see what was happening; the sight to see was far from scenic.

A towering monstrosity sat in front of me, sitting atop the ruins of several homes blocks away from the chapel. It was a tall arch made of colossal black fangs, held up by black spikes with red at their tips. A wall of flames perched in the center of the sinister arch. It was almost like fiery stained glass that swirled around in its frame.

"What is it?" I asked. The chapel's occupants stood in front of the door in awe as the sky changed into a deep crimson.

"It can't be! This is impossible!" Martin shouted horror.

"What?" I shouted over the cries and violent hissing from the arch. I looked up at a wide-eyed Martin. He didn't hear me, it seemed. I tugged at his robe for attention. Even louder this time, I shouted again. "What… Is… It?"

"A gate!" He roared. "A gate into Oblivion itself!"


	7. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **There may be some confusion with the plural forms of "daedroth." "Daedroth" is the singular form of "Daedra."

Thanks to my good friend Brandon Wollen for helping me out with this chapter. I found it rather difficult.

Read and review, loves!

**Chapter Nine: Trapped!**

"Wha- what does it do?" One of the other priests asked.

"Any monstrosity that lives on the other side of that gate has the liberty of entering our world," Martin explained.

"What kind of monstrosities are we talking about here?" I asked him.

"Daedra." Martin shivered when letting out the word. The word meant little to me. "Demon" was all I could relate to it. "We must get to safety!"

"And where might that be?" Bendu asked. "As far as I can see, that bloody gate is blocking our way out of this town."

"The chapel basement," said one of the chapel-goers.

"I don't think we have another choice." I said. "Quickly! Let's go."

"Wait," Martin said just before we were to head downstairs. "The people outside!" Naturally, I didn't want to let Martin be a hero and risk his life, but my heart went out to those running around outside in a frenzy.

"Fine, but we must hurry!" I said. Our little group marched out into the red-tinted landscape, unsure of what to do next.

An ear shattering screech tore through the air. I turned to look at the gate, the source of the sound. A monster that looked nothing like I had ever seen before entered my vision. The thing stood on two hind legs with thin arms adorned with claws at the ends. It screamed as more appeared from out of the gate. It was too dangerous to help anyone now, for I didn't want anyone to fight these vile creatures.

"There's no time, Martin! Go back!" I shouted over the chaos. Martin didn't hear me; he was running towards a crying child amongst the rubble of a destroyed home. "Martin! Go back!" I shouted again as I ran towards him. He picked up the little Redguard girl into his arms and turned his attention to getting back into the chapel; I ran with him towards the doors, the little girl still sobbing.

"Watch out!" I screamed upon spotting a fireball coming from a smaller creature charging at us. We ducked to avoid the fire; Martin was almost too late. The fiery sphere barely missed his head, singing his hair. I don't think he noticed, though. Martin just kept running after it passed.

"Stay in the basement, Martin!" I yelled to him as he ran through the chapel doors after we finally reached them. Turning to search for more civilians revealed new monsters walking through the gate. They looked like demonic humanoid figures in fiery armor with eyes that burned with just as much fury as the gate itself. "Daedra," I said aloud to myself, then turned to run back inside. The daedroth cast a sinister spell my way as I dashed towards safety.

But I couldn't move! My muscles let out from beneath me, refusing to work. I could hear one of the Daedra's thundering footsteps approach; I looked up to find my worst nightmare stare right down at me without a hint of mercy in its inhuman eyes. The orange and red of the dancing flames reflected off its shining chest plate and his sword hung low to the ground in his right hand.

I closed my eyes when it started to raise its equally sinister sword, but the hit never arrived. Instead, I heard a twisted scream from the beast just as my muscles were under my command once more. I looked up to find the monster clash swords with none other than Bendu.

I looked on in horror as Bendu's longsword clashed with the daedroth's sword. Sparks flew to the side as Bendu's sword scraped down the length of Deadra's.

"I will not let you leave here alive!" Bendu cried as he swung again at the daedroth. The daedroth blocked the attack and swung his sword towards Bendu. Bendu blocked it, but was hurled backwards onto his back. The monster then swung his sword downwards to impale Bendu, but Bendu held up his hand as a bolt of electricity shot from his palm and intercepted the sword, jerking it to the side and impaling the dirt next to him. Bendu looked up at the daedroth's spiky helmet and his blood-red eyes. He grasped the handle of his longsword and thrust it deep into the creature's chest. Blood ran down the length and onto his face.

The daedroth reeled back in pain, releasing his grip on his sword. Bendu took the chance to pick it up and flung it at Deadra's legs, causing him to fall to his knees. The daedroth looked up at Bendu, who now stood in front of him and at the blood-ladened longsword.

Bendu let out a bloodthirsty cry as he swung around in place to gain momentum. The longsword swung around with him, the blade slicing through the Deadra's thin neck armor. Blood escaped down the side as the blade cut deeper, and finally cut through to the other side and through the thin armor. The daedroth's head rolled down its back and onto the dirt behind him; his body falling forward, landing with a thud at Bendu's feet. Tears of joy ran down my face as Bendu looked back at me, blood splattered across his dark face.

"Go!" Bendu shouted just before he turned away, and started walking towards the fiery gate.

"Bendu! What are you doing?" I cried, the tears of joy instantly turning to agony as I watched Bendu go. He vanished through the gate, the tip of his sword trailing through behind him. I scrambled to my feet, bolting towards the chapel once more. My feet flew me through the chapel, down the stars, and to the doors leading to the basement where I banged on the wood screaming for someone to let me in. After the longest 20 seconds of my life, the door cautiously creaked open; a hand grabbed my blouse and towed me into the room.

"You're safe here, my dear." An elderly woman's voice assured me. I followed her dark figure down the stairs into the wide open basement. It was littered with bedrolls, candles, and only a handful of survivors. They lay on the ground, tears running down their cheeks, only able to recall what they had just seen. In the dim light, Martin was tending to and injured man. A pale blue glow radiated from Martin's palms onto the injured man's leg. Just seeing the light was soothing enough to heal my mind, if only for a moment. I walked over to him, my eyes locked on the blue glow.

"You know," I began. "You never taught me how to heal."

"At least you've survived this long without my teachings." Martin smiled at me as he spoke. His face wasn't full of distress for those few lovely seconds.

"Just barely," I said, thinking about how I narrowly escaped execution. I don't think a healing spell can mend a headless body, fresh out of execution. My body shuddered at the thought. I kept my sights on Martin as he left the injured man to sit down against a large pillar that supported the ceiling. I sat down next to him; my legs crossed, staring down at the stone floor.

"And so we wait," Martin let out with a sigh. My chest took in a nervous breath.

"Yes. And so we wait," I agreed.

From my little perch next to Martin I investigated our little group of survivors that lay scattered throughout the many rooms of the chapel's basement. All of us felt so empty; so helpless. I watched as they prayed, draining out the little hope they had left in their tattered souls. Since the filthy Daedra didn't get the chance to cut up our bodies, they sure managed to carve out our livelihood.

For hours the world above us rumbled around as we could hear buildings topple over thanks to Gods-know-what. I confided to myself that it was likely that we were buried under the chapel's remains, assuming it was destroyed. I didn't want to speculate further because it brought so much pain to my heart. Even the distraught conversations between the others were unbearable.

"They can't go on holy ground, can they?" one woman asked Martin.

"The Nine will protect us," is all he would say. My poor Martin; he had the heaviest burden upon his shoulders than any of us. At least, that's what I told myself. I still had to get him back to Weynon; and that probably wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He stood up from the hard stone floor he'd sat on for the past several hours and headed towards the priests' chambers. I silently trailed behind him into a room with beds at every corner. He sat down with his battered hands cradling his face. I could feel my heart sink lower into my chest as I stood in the doorway gazing at him.

"Martin," I whispered. His teary stare met mine. Even with his hair partially singed and face stained with tears and worries I could still see the teenaged Martin underneath it all. "Look at you," I said with my arms spread out towards him. "You're a wreck!"

"This isn't the time to gawk," his hollow voice replied.

"Then what is it time for?" I asked. Martin looked town at his feet with a deep sigh. "I'm just as distressed as you are. But for now we will wait."

"Wait for what? For an angel to walk out of that gate and save us?" he snapped back. "Oh, wait. Maybe you're right! Maybe because I'm an illegitimate heir sent from the gods, my damn royal army is on its way to save us!" If only it were that simple. Perhaps word has reached Jauffre about Kvatch and he is to send help?

"Why else did the gate open here?" I shouted at him. "Coincidence? How else would I have found you, Martin?" He closed his eyes in deep thought. My voice lowered in regret of yelling at him, "They are here for the last heir to the Septim throne."

"And you think it's me?" He asked. I nodded. "I'm a priest of Akatosh, not a Septim."

"What will it take to convince you that I'm not lying?"

"I want to believe you. I want to bring some rhyme or reason to this mess," he said.

"Then believe me! We'll get out of here, and I can bring you to those who will prove to you that this is real!" Martin bit down on his lip as he digested my words.

"If we get out of here I'll follow you. I have nothing left here." He didn't seem at all confident in his words, but I still intended to hold those same words to him when the time comes. "In the meantime, you should sleep. Have you even rested since arriving in…" Martin paused before saying the ruined city's name. "What was Kvatch?" I shook my head.

"No," I argued.

"Decie, YOU are the one who is a wreck!" He fought back. Martin's words pulled a string on the lute that is my heart. A sweet note rang out in my head at the sound of my name.

"Say that again."

"Say what again?" His face looked puzzled in the dim light.

"The part where you said my name." Tears squeezed through my eyes as I desperately tried to hide my avalanche of feelings. "My long lost name! For so long I haven't had the name that I told myself I wouldn't miss!" My cheeks now served as a riverbed for the flow of tears that I couldn't hold back.

I felt his warm hand hold wipe away my tears. His rough skin was soothing to me. It reminded me that this was a different man than the one I had met in Morrowind. Martin must have been through so much after he departed; the wear and tear of ten years showed up on his hands.

"Decima Sentinelle, what are you talking about?" My head rested on his chest in exhaustion as I continued to cry. My name! My full name! It was so liberating to recede from "Azadeh," and to finally be the person I missed.

"I changed my name to Azadeh," I said in a raspy voice. "It was out of paranoia and was an unnecessary action, none the less."

"And you missed it," he said, now understanding my tears.

"I thought I wouldn't. Out with the old and in with the new, ya know?"

"There were some things that shouldn't have changed, Decie." Ahh! He said it again! Warmth filled up my soul to its brim.

We sat there together, just as long lost friends would, without a word. I forgot about all of the terror that lurked above us, how Bendu was to meet the definition of evil within that gate, and how my heart ached, knowing that I had the job of saving my friend… My emperor.


	8. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: An emperor, a child, and a temple**

Before I tell you about the second time I had ever awakened in a chapel, I must first tell you what happened right before I opened my eyes.

I'm not quite sure at what moment it was when I dozed off in Martin's arms, but I do remember what horrors my sleep brought me.

A hellish landscape stretched out before me, rivaling the terrorizing tales of Vvardenfell's Red Mountain. The sky was still red, mimicking the rivers of lava that carved out the ground below. Would I ever see another peaceful blue day again? Bits of crumbled structures dotted the lifeless earth, parts of dismantled bodies hung from long dead trees (I'll never forget the heads that stared at me), and those horrifying monsters roamed around the evil world that matched their personal appearance. Those wicked daedra marched towards me in vast numbers with their inhumanly grey eyes and dreadful armor that looked like the scales of a demented lizard, only covered in black and scarlet stone.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for someone, anyone, to come and save me. But no sound erupted from my lungs. The ground beneath my feet rumbled as the daedra drew closer towards my helpless being. I curled up on the dusty ground and closed my eyes in terror, waiting to be trampled on.

The rhythm of the march stopped in an instant. I looked up to find the hellish landscape gone and replaced with a garden. It was garden so pure and idyllic that I thought I must have died and risen in Aetherius. I stood up to inspect my heaven, inhaling the fresh air. Soft green grass tickled my feet as I listened to the babbling water of a small brook in the near distance. A canopy of flowered vegetation concealed the sun up above.

"If only Tamriel were this simple and delightful right now," a familiar voice said. I swirled around to face this new companion.

"Uriel!" I gasped at the sight of the man I had seen die. He still looked old and crinkled, but not as frail compared to his final hours. Uriel's solemn face was still as stone; I translated it into the seriousness of the situation. "I failed you," I wanted to cry as I said it, looking at him in the eyes. "Your heir is locked in a basement with daedra above us, looking to hunt him down."

"It is not your duty to fight off these hordes." Uriel's wise smile lit up his face.

"Then what is my duty?" I wanted to make sense of this mess. Just like Uriel's son, I wanted rhyme and reason.

"The battle you are to fight is one of mentality and the strength of the heart."

"What do you mean?" I cried. As soon as I asked, his figure was fading away from me. "No! Come back!" I screamed with my arm stretched out to him just before his image blinked out of existence. The scenery of the garden was crumbling into ash around me as I let out a whispery "Uriel… no!"

The dream… or vision… Whatever it was had left me. In other words, I woke up. Martin was no longer by my side, and the empty beds in the room were now occupied by the survivors that were no longer affected by injuries. I stepped off the bed to head to the door so I could find Martin when I heard a delicate stir near me. My head turned towards the source of the sound (the other side of my oversized bed) to find the tiny Redguard girl Martin had the heart to rescue, curled up in a deep sleep. The faint light that came from the open door illuminated her face. My heart mourned for the girl, who had likely just lost her family and everything she had come to know and love. Her face scrunched up in pain as she slept; I assumed she was having nightmares about the world above us.

I simply couldn't bear looking at the scene anymore, so I walked out of the priests' quarters into the large illuminated room I had been in earlier, still littered with bedrolls for the injured. It wasn't hard to find Martin, who was leaning against one of the pillars, watching over the few who were still injured. His slouched figure reeked of exhaustion. I approached him in silence to rest my hand on his shoulder. I didn't know what to say to him as he turned his head towards me; greeting me with a half-hearted smile.

"It kills me to not be able to open those doors," Martin began, pointing to the double doors that led up into the chapel's main floor. They were now sealed shut with a long iron pole from a candle holder set across the two doors to keep them shut away from the outside world.

"They're bound to open eventually," I replied. "What will walk through is the question." My body shuddered in unison with Martin's as we both thought of the same horrific possibilities. At that very moment there was a loud rumble coming from outside the doors; keep in mind that that the world above had stopped rumbling about hours earlier.

Martin and I exchanged worried glances as the jumbled noise continued outside. This could make or break us all; and if our fears were brought to life from behind those doors, at least we'd die trying to save the others from the awful daedra.

"Brace yourself," Martin said in brave, yet trembling, voice as he stepped away from the pillar to face the doors, ready to fight off the intruders. Brace myself with what? I didn't have a weapon to defend myself, nor did I think I could pull off shooting fire from my fingertips like I did in the prison.

The doors were now shaking from something on the other side trying to knock them down. Ear shattering thuds brought the doors closer to falling off their hinges and tested the pole's strength to its fullest.

Splinters of wood flew in all directions like tiny little daggers as another, much louder, thud hit the center where the iron pole lay in place. The chipped blade of an axe broke through the center of one of the doors, followed by another. The axe head fell once more, straight through the center of the door and through the iron pole. I wanted to turn and run to hide from the doors being torn down by who-knows-what. Martin could hear me whimper in fear, so he pulled my cowering self behind him to protect me. My trembling hands grasped his robes as I peered around him to get a good look at the dismantled doors.

To my relief, no daedra swarmed through the feeble doors to kill us off! Instead, a familiar face pushed what was left of the doors down onto the floor and stepped forward to ease our worries.

"Baurus!" I shouted, running past Martin to greet him. A glowing smile grew on his dark face as I ran towards him with great joy.

"You're okay!" Baurus cheered. He turned towards where the doors once stood and shouted, "Jauffre! Everyone, they're fine!" So, as strange as it seemed, Martin was right about his "royal army" coming here to save us! Jauffre ran into the room, still in his old monk's robes, armed with a long katana; identical to Baurus'. He seemed so out of place next to the other blades, seeing that he wasn't in the same stunning armor.

"The heir!" Jauffre gasped towards me. "Did you find him? Is he safe?" I held out my arm towards Martin, motioning for him to step forward towards us. Martin slowly walked to my side, his face stuck in a humbly stoic pose, and with his hands behind his back.

"The last Septim, Martin," I said as I presented Martin to Baurus, Jauffre, and several other Blades that had appeared behind them. Their eyes widened simultaneously as I introduced Martin. All at once they kneeled in uniformed synergy as they said "Your highness," in a stunningly calm tone. Martin stood in shock at the sight of the Blades kneeling before him; I wanted to giggle at his mouth hanging open and his eyes the size of saucers.

Jauffre rose up from the floor and cleared this throat. "So all is not lost."

"What do mean, 'All is not lost'?" I stuttered. The old man let out a depressed sigh. "Jauffre! What is it?" I shouted at him, prying for bad news.

"The amulet is gone. We were attacked just after we received the news of Kvatch being under siege." Martin remained confused and unfamiliar with our vocabulary.

I shook my head in disbelief. My heart sank to the floor at his words. This couldn't be happening! Another setback was the last thing we needed!

"The assassins took it," Baurus added. "The same ones that…"

"Don't remind me," I growled at him. The last thing I wanted right now was to be reminded of that horrific day in the prison.

"At this very moment, we have a new priority," Jauffre began. "We must get Emperor Martin to safety." In my peripheral vision I could see Martin flinch at the title.

"Where are we to take him? Those bastards are probably crawling all over the empire!" I asked.

"I can't tell you where right now, not here at least," Jauffre answered as he eyed the survivors that listened in on our conversation.

"Fine, we'll leave at once," I said, trying hard not to sound angry. I wanted to know where in Mundus we were going, but dropped the subject for now.

Martin didn't look at all comfortable with this. I was sure he wanted to stay and continue being a priest by caring for the survivors. He opened his mouth to argue, "I… I …"

"Made a promise?" I retorted. He sighed, recalling his words from earlier. "Jauffre, we must take these people out of the city with us." The thought of leaving these people was painful, in the least. "Is it safe out there?" I gazed up at the ceiling as I asked him.

"Yes. We've terminated the last of the Daedra from that gate, thanks to your friend." Jauffre let a gracious smile spread across his face, which usually had a cold disposition.

"Bendu," I whispered. My head tilted down from gazing upwards to the Blades. "What has become of him?"

Jauffre hesitated before answering with, "It shall be discussed later." My nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists at his answer. I didn't like being treated like a child, with my friend's fate sugar coated with Jauffre postponing the inevitably bad news. But I kept my mouth shut not wanting to bother arguing with him. He turned back towards the stairs that led up into the altar room and proceeded back to the outside world.

I took extra care is making sure everyone had left the basement, especially the little Redguard girl who had been found hiding under a desk in the basement just before we left the city. She was likely the last child left in Kvatch. Because of this I grew attached to the wordless child as we marched through the rubble; she sobbed on my shoulder as I carried her out of the city with the Blades surrounding us as escorts.

To finally walk past what was left of the city gates felt so liberating. The Gold Coast welcomed us with the fresh sea breeze washing away the stench of flesh that radiated from the city behind us. The difference between inside the city's walls and the thriving wilderness outside was night and day; the smell was the difference between the two worlds I liked the most. Our herd of survivors and Blades made their way down the hill to find a small camp of another handful of handful of survivors.

Everyone looked at us with disparity in their hearts. The little Redguard girl still clung to my neck; she was getting to be heavy to carry.

"Decima, let someone here at the camp take the girl," Martin whispered in my ear as we walked.

"Not even if you were sitting on a damn throne right now!" I hissed back into his ear. "No one here will take her! Look at them, Martin. They are scared, hungry, and homeless. There is no way they can afford to take the girl in! I'm keeping her!" Martin reluctantly agreed with me, looking around the small camp.

"In that case, you may want to know her name," Martin again whispered to me. "Her name is Siona. I knew her family." I didn't verbally respond to him. Instead, I held little closer to my chest. I concluded that she probably wasn't even past age two after I inspected her. Siona was physically delicate. Mentally, she must have been a brittle husk. Her brown eyes were bloodshot from crying so much and streaks of tears stained her dark skin.

"I've sent out more Blades to scout out the fastest route to our destination," Jauffre explained to us how we were going to safely arrive at the unknown location. Honestly, I wasn't paying much attention to him, I just followed his lead. From the little I can recall of the trip, we weaved in and out of roads; through the Great Forest, back onto the Black Road, then to avoid Weynon Priory, we trekked through the wilderness to finally get onto the Orange Road towards Bruma.

This seemingly senseless route was getting on everyone's nerves, even the Blades rolled their eyes as Baurus and Jauffre had everyone change directions. All of the Blades knew where we were going, and weren't thrilled with taking a ridiculous route, according to Caroline, one of the few female Blades in our group. Even though she was willing to complain about our route, her loyalty persisted when she refused to tell me where we were headed to.

After nearly four days of travelling, Jauffre lead us up the road into Bruma. The Valus Mountains were much more welcoming than the Jerall Mountains, quite frankly. It was a completely uphill battle against a violent blizzard, bent on stopping us in our tracks. I bundled Siona up in anything warm I could spare and held her under my flimsy cloak to protect her from the cold.

"Let me take Siona for a while," Baurus said to me. I looked down at the little bundle in hesitation, listening to my muscles screaming in pain. "Please," he continued with his armored hands outstretched towards Siona. I handed her over into his arms. Surely, he would be more capable of carrying her up the steep road. I blessed the timing, because my arms were numb by now from carrying the little girl.

"Jauffre, where in Oblivion are we going?" I called up to him. I was getting very annoyed by now at being secluded from knowing anything.

"We're almost there, do not worry yourself of it," Jauffre called back to me. I grinded my teeth in anger towards him, but quickly I cooled down. We were close to wherever we were going, so I wasn't about to make a fuss about it now. For now, I'd take his word for it.

At long last, we reached relatively level ground as we traveled past Bruma's walls. The pace amongst the group sped up when we neared the city; I think it was because the Blades were being paranoid about shuttling the emperor near other people… Potential assassins.

"Just up that trail. We'll be there," Jauffre pointed up a steep hill with a dirt trail running up the side of it. I prayed that this would be my last ascent for this trip; even without Siona in my arms, the burden of keeping my own body up and walking was hard enough. Exhaustion set in to the point where my body was so drained that I couldn't even raise my head to look where I was going. Two of the Blades seized me by my arms to help me up the hill.

"We're here, my friend," the Nord Blade whispered to me. I didn't know where "here" was, but I was glad to be there.

Jauffre's voice filled the air as he chimed out, "Cyrus! Let us in!" The moan of large doors signaled for us to move on forward once more. I gathered the little strength I had to look up at what lay ahead of me.

Stone steps of white led up to a beautiful man-made plateau, upon which sat a beautiful structure. From the drawings I had seen in books years ago, it looked like something straight from Akavir. The roofing was made of burgundy shingles, slanting downwards, then straight up from its peak. Large metal bowls held fires, in place of torches. Little patches of dirt were marked with sparring rings and targets for shooting arrows.

"Grandmaster!" The Blade named Cyrus kneeled before us. He looked up as he said, "Is this… Is it really…"

"Yes, this is the heir," Jauffre answered. Other Blades from inside the fortress gathered around the entrance to greet the newcomers. The old Grandmaster continued, "His name is Martin… Martin Septim." All at once, they kneeled before Martin in unison.

"Your highness," Cyrus was nervous when he said it, not wanting to trip over his words. "Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple. You will be safe here, under the watchful eye of the Blades, sire. It is an honor to have an emperor's visit after so many years." Martin, of course, was dumbfounded that more people were kneeling before him, and he didn't know what to say.

"Th-thank you," Martin said out of his chattering teeth. I had forgotten that he only had his priest's robes on thought the entire trip. "The hon- honor is m-mine." He sounded so silly; I tried not to giggle at him. Little Siona started to cry and squirm in Baurus' arms. I'd be a little stir crazy too, had I been carried across Cyrodiil for several days.

"Let the girl walk," I instructed. She wiggled out of Baurus' grasp as he kneeled down to set her on the ground. We all looked upon her as she waddled towards the stone steps through the snow. It was our little moment of peace before the storm to come. "We best follow her lead," I chuckled. Siona knew where a warm fire awaited us. Martin walked up right next to me as we headed up the stairs, looking up at the temple with wonder.

The Blades lined up on our sides, parallel with each other, standing at attention. We walked through the aisle they formed then stopped just as the two lines ended, just as Jauffre had instructed us mere moments earlier. Jauffre stood next to Martin as he cleared his throat to speak.

"Blades," he began with a strikingly powerful voice. "Dark times are upon us. The emperor and his sons were slain on our watch." I could see disappointment take over their faces at the words; Baurus took such a statement even harder than the others. "The empire is in chaos. But there is yet hope!" He lifted his arms as if he were physically lifting their spirits. "Here before you now, the last of the dragon born! I bring you Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim." The Blades pulled out their swords and pointed them to the snowy sky.

"Hail, dragon born! Hail, Martin Septim! Hail!" They all shouted at the sky with all their might. Their lives were now dedicated to Martin. Martin, who was trying to hold Siona up (who was trying to run into the rows of Blades) was flabbergasted by their chants.

"Martin, you will be safe here until you are able to take the throne," Jauffre informed him. Martin's mouth sat open, searching for the words to say.

"Jauffre… All of you…" Martin began, glancing over at me with pleading eyes. "You expect me to behave like an emperor, and yet I haven't the slightest idea how to do so." I sent him a reassuring smile, hoping to transfer it into his confidence. "I've never given many speeches before. But I hope to prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days." He nodded at Jauffre, signaling the end of his speech.

"Well then," Jauffre put on his signature "business" face, serious and extra crinkled, as he thanked Martin. "We best get back to our duties, eh Captain?" A heavy-built Imperial saluted Jauffre before heading off towards the temple building.

I walked over to Siona to get her out of the bitter cold. Her little hand grasped my fingers as we walked into the large building.

"Wasn't much of a speech, was it?" I turned my head to Martin, who was right by my side once more.

"They didn't seem to mind," I grinned back. "You doubt yourself too much."

"They hailed me as Martin Septim," his voice was entangled in thought. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, Decie, but everyone expects me to suddenly know how to behave."

"I'm not a part of 'everyone' then," I replied in hopes of not letting Martin bring himself down even more. "They want an emperor, yes. But we have priorities above critiquing you on how to act like royalty."

"The amulet," he began.

"Yes, that bloody thing. It tends to slip out of my hands on a regular basis," I joked. It was a pleasant sight to have Martin smile at the sick humor of the situation.

"I'll get it back, I promise you…"

"No," I interrupted. "We'll get it back… We promise you."


End file.
